


Trader of Hearts

by 4getfulimaginator



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Drama & Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, From Sex to Love, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy Angst, Loss of Faith, Loss of Virginity, Mystery, Prostitution, Sex, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smutty, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Suspense, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2464238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4getfulimaginator/pseuds/4getfulimaginator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>CS Mafia!AU with stripper!Emma and hitman!Hook.</b> </p><p>All her life, Emma Swan has only known their darkness. Killian Jones is overshadowed by the demons of his past. But together, unshackled from a timeless feud, they could be more: they could share one heart.<br/> <br/><b>(Last 5 chapters form a prequel to the 1st chapter)</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If I had you

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A big warning that this story has a _lot_ of sex and sexual themes.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This fic is partly based on this prompt by **kendracs** : _Mafia Au - emma was stolen as a bb by Regina or Cora (a mafia head) when she was old enough she was forced to do the dirty work for them (strip club if you want) thing change when there is a huge conflict with other mafia. And the only deal worth their trust is if they get an arranged marriage between the two families. Regina set up everything to makes look like Emma is her daughter since she knows the guy she will have to marry is a very dark person._

 

### PRESENT TIME

"They said that you're dangerous." She tentatively sipped on the champagne he had offered her with a sinful smile. "They said that you've killed hundreds and thrown their bodies into the sea."

His eyebrow raised defiantly. " _Thousands._  And drained their blood to feed my soul, in addition." He scoffed darkly, his rick chuckles echoing through the vast room. " _They_  shouldn't have told you old wives' tales, my dear."

She turned her back on him, something Cora had ordered she  _not_  do.  _Fuck her_. "Probably around the lines of what they told you about me."

"Oh?" She could hear him stand up and stretch languorously, his footsteps indicating that he was approaching her from behind. "That you're a lady of the night, and yet you've never taken any man into your bed? That you have no loyalties? That you're an  _orphan_?"

"Look here," she snapped, livid that he knew things he shouldn't, "this wasn't  _my_  goddamned idea. I wasn't the one who agreed on a whim to marry the head dancer of the  _Mills Soiree_  after seeing her  _picture_  one time. To be a mediating pawn in the middle of some stupid gang war that's been going on forever. All of this," she gestured violently at the luxurious decorations, the lavish furniture and articles strewn about the bedroom suite, "is not my fucking dream or anything.  _I_  didn't want this."

He cleared his throat pointedly. "It wasn't  _one_  time, actually - more like every night till now, without any pants on meanwhile." He gave her a lascivious smirk and she rolled her eyes. "And for the record, so you won't kill me for not asking…what  _do_  you want?"

She bowed her head, still afraid to look at him. The ceremony had been fast and simple, no frills or cheering crowd to goad her on, to make her feel that this getup was right. She had been their slave, forced to do their bidding. Now, she was his - formally and legally. "I don't know," she whispered softly. "I only know…that I didn't want to be some stranger's wife-"

"Ah - you want  _love_." His hands covered the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down. "You want real family, not some farce." His mouth danced over her neck, and she wondered if the tender kisses she felt him place there were imaginary. "You want to escape from the life Cora has given you since you were abandoned as a child - to find a true home, not a prison."

"And I'd find this with  _you_?" she snorted, stifling a gasp when he nibbled on her ear. "With a cold-hearted murderer who only thinks of himself, hell-bent on revenge?"

He unzipped her gown, slowly peeling it off until she was left in only her brassiere and underwear, shivering from the cold air. When she refused to react, to face him, he made her, hands on her hips as he turned her around and took her into arms. "You shouldn't judge me without knowing me, love," he purred, hand sliding down to cup her breast. The cuffs of his shirt were unbuttoned, his shirt wide open, his tie gone. With his mussed hair and dilated eyes, he was the spitting image of all her clients when she told them they could look, but not touch.

Struggling to get away from him, she hissed, "I don't want to know you. I don't want to be  _anything_  with you."

He forced her to look into his eyes by violently grabbing the back of her neck and tilting her face upward, squeezing her breast viciously with his other hand. "Emma, you're my  _wife_."

"And you're my  _husband_ , Killian," she snarled, cringing when he stroked her cheek with one finger. "You can use my body as you wish - you can take me whenever you want and I'd have no say in the matter - but there's one thing you'll never get from me."

"And what's that?" he said, his voice muffled as he explored her shoulders, nuzzling them.

She trembled. "My heart." A tear traitorously trickled down her nose.

He tsked when he saw it, and she felt like she was plummeting when he wiped it away, uncharacteristic gentleness in his touch in contrast to his icy stare and grim smile. "Darling, you have no idea how tired I am of this nefarious existence. The way I come home every night to a mansion that's empty and cold, filled with treasures but devoid of life. The plunder I partake in but find no use for." He released her from his embrace, shrugging off his shirt onto a chair and strolling up to the wide glass window in front of them.

"Just so you know how much of a blackguard I am," he spat out bitingly, his back facing her, "there's only been one woman who's lived in this house before. Well…she  _visited_  very often. Does the name Milah mean anything to you?"

"You were with Gold's-"

"Yes." His eyes flickered to her and then back up at the full moon. "See, I was a fool. I thought it was great love," he drawled, "that what we had together was forever. How was I to know that she only fancied a fuck with a clueless boy she could toss to the side as soon as her husband found out?"

"But you loved her." She said it with awe, because the pain in his posture and how he pursed his lips together, a faint sniffle the tell-tale sign she recognized so well, made her hope against her better sense that maybe this man wasn't the monster she had expected.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Aye…I did. I shouldn't have, but I did. Guess what happened when Gold discovered Milah's dirty little secret."

"I don't-"

"Guess!" he hissed in command, his eyes flashing an erupting volcano of ire. "Or at least tell me your side's version."

Emma covered her bare arms with her hands, wishing she could be in her own bed at home - even if that was in that hovel of a boarding house all the strippers had to live in. "Gold gave Milah a choice: her life…or yours. She chose hers. And when he was about to order his men to tear you apart with bullets…you grabbed the nearest knife and stabbed her through the heart." She shuddered. "He made you his right-hand man after that."

He grinned maliciously at her. "And here we are,  _Princess_."

Rolling her eyes at his use of her work nickname, she approached the vanity mirror and took her hairbrush from her toiletries. When her hand lifted to her head, she felt his hand curl around her wrist and make her drop the brush, letting it fall to the ground.

"There's no need for that," he whispered, fingers reaching between her thighs. He began to kiss frantically along her throat, groping at her curves with the frenzy of a madman.

"Fucking me won't solve your problems," she gasped out, trying to elude him. "It won't change your history with her, or that you're now with me."

"But," he nipped at her collarbone, "it will make me feel so much better, don't you think?"

Her mouth was so near his that their breaths were mingling as one, and she became entranced by the blue hue of his gaze, losing herself in its depths.  _Like a sheep led to slaughter._

Then he raised a brow at her challengingly, and she knew he was up to trouble. "How about a dance, Swan?"

"I don't dance," she sneered. "Not anymore."

His eyes narrowed. "For a wager, then. If you give me a lap dance and you admit that you don't want more, I won't touch you tonight. But if you do…" His grin was deadly. "Well, that's when the fun begins."

She groaned. What she wouldn't give for a good night's sleep and an early breakfast. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Undress. I'll be sitting here in the chair."

"Un-"

"You heard me." His voice was firm and unconquerable.

Hesitating, she unclasped the back of her bra, shimmying off her underpants in less than a minute. He wasn't the first man to have seen her naked, but there was something more unsettling about Killian devouring the sight of her as he unclothed himself completely and then sat down on the mahogany armchair in the corner.

"Close the curtains."

Hating to obey him but having no choice, she pulled the drapes. When she made no move to turn on the lights, he hinted, "I prefer it with the lights on."

He was waiting for her, bathed in a soft glow, his hard length jutting out already. She wallowed briefly in a feeling of discomfort, pushed it away, and focused on him. He was an extremely handsome specimen of a man…this should be easy.

Emma started to sway her hips seductively, recalling the sexy tunes the strip hall would usually play for the pole dancers. Her arms went up to frame her head, and she ran her hands through her hair, wanting to stir her audience up.

Judging by the way his erection thickened, it was working.

Straddling him slowly, she rolled her butt along his thighs, swiveling her hips and trailing a hand down his arm, encouraging him to reach out and touch her.

Looking down at him through slitted eyes, she bit her lip as she rubbed herself down his cock, purposely teasing him. He growled but was steady, holding onto her hip with one hand while the other had begun to take liberties with her body.

When she bounced her breasts in front of his face, however, his expression changed in an instant. One moment, he was under control, and the next…

"Fuck the wager."

He stood up suddenly, wrapped her legs around his waist, and lifted her up into his arms, to which she responded with an ill-timed shriek.

Throwing her down on the bed, he crawled over her, grinding his hips against hers. His lips crashed against hers, demanding entrance, and after pushing against him and fighting back, she kissed him back just as forcefully, her fingers threading through his chest hair and tugging at it.

He moaned. Killian Jones, procurer  _extraordinaire_  of contraband, infamous ladies' man, and self-named gentleman,  _moaned_.

"I hope you're bloody wet for me, love," he rasped as he licked down her neck, "because I'm going to ravish you now."

"And I hope you like real women in your bed," she retorted, biting down on his shoulder, "because I'm not some damsel in distress who's just going to  _take_  it."

"Understood," he muttered as he buried his head between her legs and sought her inner folds, sucking on them forcefully. Feeling his tongue thrust inside her made Emma yelp. He put her legs over his shoulders and began to taste her more urgently, a series of movements that was making Emma arch against the bed.

"Oh my god," she cried out, seeing white stars in her vision.

Killian stopped short, smirked at her, and then returned to her mouth, continuing the pattern with his tongue there. His cock pressed against her, and Emma decided that it was time to take back control.

Flipping them over, she straddled him again, shaking her hair over her back so that he could have a complete view of all she had to offer. "I'm not some whore you can dominate."

"No," he replied, licking his lips and leering at her. "you're not." Lining his tip at her entrance, he sat up so that she was in his lap. "You're my wife!" He thrust upward to emphasize his words, claiming her. She nearly screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Taking her roughly, helping her lift herself up and then lower herself down on him at a frenetic pace, he leaned forward to catch her nipples in his mouth, milking them desperately, hands squeezing her behind. Her fingertips pressed into his back, grasping at his skin and yanking at his hair when he buried his face in the crook of her neck, panting and grunting.

"Fuck, Emma - you feel bloody marvelous around me!"

"Killian," she whined, "don't stop! Harder - harder!"

Her lips parted in a silent scream when her orgasm shook every part of her body, and he came with a shout as he spilled himself inside her, continuing to thrust afterwards in order to lengthen their pleasure. Turning them over, he laid her down on the bed, pulling out of her with a low groan.

She didn't think he would stay, resting his head between her breasts as they basked in the smell of sex and the vivid images of their coupling. He then pressed timid, gentle, vulnerable kisses along her flushed skin, and when he started to retreat because she didn't initially respond to his touch, she dove into him, guiding him back inside her so they could make love properly, and the way he kissed her now was how she had always dreamed she would be kissed.

With passion.

With tenderness.

With just the smallest inkling of possible love.

* * *

_The mansion had been sold from abroad. The decorations had been sold at auction. His Porsche had found a generous buyer. Gold had been mysteriously poisoned during the night of his benefit concert, and Cora was extremely busy chasing after her rebellious daughter Regina, who had eloped with an outsider named Daniel._

_Thanks to Mr. Smee and a secret bank account in Switzerland, Killian Jones and his wife, Emma Swan Jones, were some of the richest socialites in Europe, cautious with their spending and careful never to appear in public._

_Unstoppable._

_Unbreachable._

_Immeasurably, impossibly happy._

_Their hearts free and intact._

* * *


	2. For your entertainment, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The following 5 chapters are a prequel to the previous chapter - meaning that all events described from here on out take place before what happened in chapter 1. Chapter titles are thanks to Adam Lambert's intoxicating rock music.

### FIVE MONTHS BEFORE

He really,  _really_  couldn't understand why the bloody hell he kept coming to this shoddy corner of hell, night after night after bloody night.

Maybe it was the scantily clad women, the open alcohol so near his reach, the bartenders who knew him by name, the flair of this particular crowd of regulars. Then again... It was mostly the fact that his  _oh so gracious_  employer had purposely sent him here.

To hide. To observe. To sneak. To bloody spy, all in all.

The animosity between Gold and Cora Mills was too strong to leave well enough alone, apparently. They were always at each other's throats ― had been for  _years_  ― and unsurprisingly, the hatred had been generously distributed among their progeny as well. While Bae and Regina both had a penchant for being rebellious and unruly toward their parents, their unabashed determination to get what they wanted from life was one of the main reasons they despised each other in turn.

Like father, like son. Like mother, like daughter. Two families, on opposite sides of the fence but completely the bloody same.

Bloodthirsty. Power-hungry. Irrational down to their bloody  _cores_.

Killian Jones chuckled to himself. Baelfire was alright, if he was honest with himself...he rather liked the lad and his guts to defy his morbid, disgusting megalomaniac of a father. And despite all he had seen and heard, the boy somehow had retained his mother's passionate nature and deep heart. The spitting image of Milah herself, even though looking at Bae hurt all too much.  _Bloody hell._

"Evenin', ladies and gents!" came the megaphone-loud voice of one Jefferson, known to one and all as the Mad Hatter of the club ― Cora's head-in-chief and purveyor of her brothel. The man twirled one of his less impressive top hats on one finger, a wide Cheshire grin splitting his face. "Boy, do we have quite an audience tonight!" When the crows and catcalls died down, he continued, "Let's get to business, shall we? Or should I say...our  _entertainment_. We have some real treats for you to sample, but first... Ms. Mills' lead girl is on the stage for a special performance tonight only, so give a hand for what could be the finest show of the year!"

He snorted, chucking down his last shot of rum for the evening. Always the same pitch: boost up a lass' reputation to the breaking point, then use a big reveal to garner extra cash and let the curtains fall flat when her looks don't match either the price or the advertisements. Who could tell where Cora dug up this latest find...

The lights immediately grew dim. Peering through the darkness, Killian could just make out a female figure standing by the infamous center stripper pole ― the one men were drawn to like moths to a flame, hoping to get burnt by the latest beauty with a voluptuous body and heart of stone...

Then the spotlight hit its target.

* * *

Frantically, he slipped into the open doorway, slamming the door behind him. Even drunk, he always remembered where that convenient private restroom was.  _Took a frequent patron to keep that in mind..._

In under a minute, his belt and long pants were discarded on the floor, as well as his underwear. Thanking his presence of mind for choosing a holster instead of some wretched lower body contraption to house his gun, he grabbed at his rigid length, pulsing and throbbing, and sought relief.

The vision that had filled the spotlight of the center stage was no ordinary girl Cora Mills had picked up from some dump heap. Decked out in dark leather, she was a fallen angel, a spectre who haunted men's dreams with images of desire and longing, only to pull away and leave them empty-handed. Blonde curls covering her bare shoulders, she had danced to the upbeat music like a Gypsy, something primal and wild in the way she moved. At the same time, she had the air of a goddamn princess, regal steps and prideful glances. She was akin to a bloody flag on that goddamned pole, waving madly in salute as she won subjects and stole breaths with every swing and sway of her hips. Erotic was her middle name, turning his groin into a well of fire.

That was before she started to strip.

First, her short jacket was dropped, forgotten on the floor. She then threw her skirt at her gyrating, screaming admirers, causing the air in the room to sizzle with newfound heat when she was robed only in a corset and matching set of lingerie.

Even now, hands wrapped around his cock, head supported by the wall, he could see how she had teased every article off. Her fingers purposely untying the laces of the corset very,  _very_  slowly, removing the heavy brace to reveal a sheer push-up bra that made his mouth water. Every golden limb and curve was within sight, adding torment to torture, and when she finally was bare for all to see, clad only in high boots, he thought he would implode.

The harder he goaded on his erection, the more he imagined launching himself onto that stage. Pulling her into his arms. Carrying her off like the primitive, lustful creature he was. His mouth latching onto those perfectly taut nipples and milking her dry while his hands took advantage of that marvelous, round arse. Laying her down on the ground. Parting her thighs and burying his tongue in her, taking and giving pleasure at will until he heard her scream. Thrusting into her, rough and fast, to sate his cock and quench the animalistic urge to make her his. The memory of her bouncing breasts and rosy lips, parted open in a sigh while she continued to dance, was enough to make him come with a hoarse shout, seed spilling onto the floor.

It took a hoard of aroused men clambering around her legs and trying to grab her to make his eyes, glazed over from lust, focus on her face. Though she had offered her skills and her beauty with a smile, there was no warmth behind it. No, those green eyes of hers were cold and sad, staring at the wall as she did her job and then slipped back into the shadows, where she was unseen. He recognized the pain all too well. She, like him, had lost too much and gained too little. She was more than just a lead dancer at Mills Soiree, and he...

Well, what had started out as reconnaissance for Gold to seek out Cora's weakness was no longer just a bloody job.

He bribed the bartender he disliked best ― Will, was it? ― and found out the last bit of information that was missing.

Miss Emma Swan was not going to be a one-time thing. Not in his book.

_And that kiss she blew towards the audience at the end..._

_What a bloody woman._

* * *

"If I didn't know better,  _dearie_ , I'd say you were  _obsessed_  with this girl." Mr. Gold closed his ledger with an emphatic snap. "If that is the case, I'd hate to see you lose sight of your duties while you daydream over some whore,  _Hook_."

Killian felt his jaw pop when he ground his teeth.  _Damn bastard..._  "Swan is  _not_  some mere whore in Cora's pay,  _crocodile_ ," he hissed. "She is... God above, I don't what she is, but she's more than a stripper. She's...bloody  _brilliant_."

"A stripper, I take it, that you want to fuck but can't because of the obvious imposition, correct?" Gold almost sounded bored.

His anger only grew hotter. "If I wanted to bed her, I would have done so! No, there's something else... She's heavily guarded, more than believable for any call girl, and when the men ask for her, the Hatter says she's off the bidding charts. I've been going to every show for over a month and I've only seen her dance four times. For someone who's clearly so... _wanted_...that's bloody unusual, isn't it?"

"That's because she's  _not_  the usual, dearie. Well, what have you discovered? Or is my money just feeding your endless gut and poisoning your liver?"  _There_  was the sadistic smile he hated.

Killian swallowed hard.  _Best to tread carefully, now, and not awaken the beast._  "That Will Scarlett bloke only told me that he's heard her called 'Charming' behind the scenes a couple of times. Otherwise, no one knows her history."

"Because, clearly, it's not information Cora wants out in the open," he sneered. The taunt stung. "Never fear, though ― I hold the key to the answers you seek." He threw a file down on the glass table. "Read it and weep."

The words blurred together until he wasn't sure what he was reading. "Cora killed her parents, the Charmings? And then...took Emma in?"

Gold sighed. "Yes...it was a bloody business. David was an undercover agent, sent to undermine her regime. He made a deal with me to get in on her activities, but she found him out... Needless to say, his wife and he were found shot to death in their apartment, all evidence of Cora's illegal acts wiped clean. There was a trial, but it went up in smoke. Their newborn baby went missing after it was orphaned in the local hospital...sadly, Miss Swan's fate wasn't a happy one. Cora has a way of exacting precise vengeance on numerous generations at once."

"You  _knew_...and did nothing?" His legs were shaking, he was so furious. "Coward."

The man shrugged. "What should I have done? Put my own neck on the chopping block for a babe and some naïve man's stupidity? You should know by now that power...control...  _That_  is the only means of protection. Justice doesn't feed you or keep you safe at night. Didn't you see that when you were out pirating those stolen goods of yours for cents on the dollar, where your own brother got killed trying to save you?"

Killian was furious. Being a part of Gold's entourage was like being prey caught in a spider's web: helpless to move, to leave, to do anything. You are literally paralyzed. " _Damn_  you and your histrionics―"

"Uh uh uh," he tsked at him. "Don't say something you'd regret later, dearie."

"Is that a threat?" he spat out.

"Take it as you like, but the deal here is this: you  _will_  keep going to Cora's whorehouse and see if there is any means to further our cause. You  _will_  continue to infiltrate her ranks and learn what benefits  _me_ , and only me." Gold ran a hand down his cane in a fond manner, petting the wood. "I don't care what you do on the side, as long as you remember your purpose there and get what I want. Understood?"

* * *

_He wanted her._

_He wanted to strip her down, bare her very soul, for himself alone._

_He wanted to fuck her dry till he no longer had any inkling of what desire meant._

_He wanted to know her ― to know the story behind the face, the reasons behind her frowns, the person inside that body._

_He wanted her badly enough that he would do anything. And he knew how dangerous it was to be that taken with a woman._

_The consequences be damned._

_He would win her. And, in the end, she would want him back._

* * *

"So, how do you want me?"

It was hard to see Swan's face through the mask, but when he narrowed his eyes, he could make out her form, brightened by the moonlight streaking through the uncovered window. She was covered by a dark robe, nearly invisible in the darkness.

When he tried to reply, his throat was so dry he couldn't speak at all. He coughed, desperate to get his voice back while he struggled to regain his confidence in her presence.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she teased, sarcasm in her voice and a full chuckle on her lips.

He glared at her ― well, as best as possible through the damn Phantom-of-the-Opera regalia he was sporting. All so his identity would be incognito.  _Fucking Gold and his wiles―_ "Considering how much I'm paying for this," he growled, "silence could be a personal demand, darling."

Now it was her turn to simmer. "Look here,  _buddy_  ― this is my job," she snapped. "Like it or not, I'm  _not_  your personal plaything. Jefferson said you requested me, handed him 50 grand, and here I am. I play by  _my_  rules: no touching, no penetration. You have a problem with that? Find yourself another girl."

In an instant, defiance sprung forth. He roped his arm around her waist and dragged her forward. "But I was told that...under certain circumstances...you were willing to play the game a bit... _differently_ , Swan."

Writhing madly in his grasp, she tilted her chin up at him.  _Defiant as ever._  "Well, you heard wrong."

* * *


	3. For your entertainment, part 2

 

"Break the rules." His lips came higher and higher, closer and closer to where she wanted them. "Do what you want to do, Swan." When they closed around one nipple, sucking lightly while his tongue lapped at it, she wanted to command him to stop.  _Stop making me want to lose control and let you do what you want with my body._

But she couldn't. She was transfixed in place. Her fingers dug into his dark hair as she encouraged his mouth to pleasure the other breast the same way.  _Even the way he had undressed her had been sexy..._

"Oh my god," she whimpered. Her insides were curling. It was a new experience, having someone offer himself to her, instead of the other way around. And hell, he was treating her like she was the only thing he had wanted in a very long time.

_Telling her that he was a gentleman, that they'd only talk all night if that's what she wanted. That he'd paid all that money just to be with her. That he was no ordinary client, wanting to fuck and then leave._

_Well, she wasn't so sure what she wanted from him._

_He was clearly handsome, and taken with her...and God, she was so tired of being lonely and cast aside, of being used by everyone. She wanted something for herself, a corner of the world where only she mattered._

He chuckled against her skin. "That's right, Emma ― I could do that for you. Be your lover ― no strings attached. You'll talk, I'll listen. You want me to talk...I'll talk. And if you want no talking at all..." His fingers stroked her folds, careful not to dip inward. "I can do that too. Just imagine, love," he purred, "having someone who does whatever  _you_  want, no questions asked. I could do that for you. I could be him."

It was too good to be true ― it had to be. "What ― what do  _you_  gain from this?" she managed to stammer, the spasms in her thighs growing stronger and more frequent. How did he guess she needed this ―  _this release_?

There was a pause, as if he didn't know what to say. Then his rich voice was almost mocking when he answered, "Why, nothing, darling. It's all for you."

"Really?"

"Aye... Besides," he sneered, "perhaps this sort of thing  _ignites_  me, so to speak."

She scoffed. "You get turned on by turning me on?"

"Turning you on?" She was suddenly face-to-face with him, his blue eyes smoldering her skin. She didn't know what he really looked like, who he was...but she could guess that behind his mask, he was really something. No one with a voice like his could be unattractive. "Oh, my dear..." The buttons of his shirt brushed up against her chest. It gave her chills. "I don't plan to just arouse you...I plan to  _ravish_  you."

His dark smile was the last seen she saw before he ducked down, his head now between her legs. When he dived, she had to clutch at the carpeting and bite hard on her lower lip to stifle a fucking moan.

She could feel his tongue, swirling and plunging, making her walls clench. He was licking and sucking on her inner lips as if she were a better drink than the shot of rum they had just shared, as if he wanted to inhale her and turn her inside out at the same time.  _Of course_  she knew about oral sex ― she lived in what was basically a prostitute house, for crying out loud ― but she was clueless when it came to real life experience.  _The only freedom left to her, basically. She was a stripper, not a tramp._

Tension she never thought she'd want built in her until she was thrashing on the floor, wanting to yell and shout and  _scream_. " _Yes_ ," she pleaded, rocking her hips toward his face, not caring that the well-layered mask covering it was scratching against her inner thighs and would probably leave marks. His short beard was tickling her as it rubbed over sensitive skin. "Please...more... _more_..."

He obliged, wrapping his arms around her legs before he started to thrust into her, forcefully and with vigor. His hands found her ass, cupping each cheek. When he rhythmically squeezed them in time with the motions of his tongue, she rutted against his mouth. The final straw was his nose rubbing over her clit.

While what she believed to be her first orgasm coursed through her body, making her vision spin in circles, she vaguely felt her mysterious visitor crawl up to her and latch onto her breasts, suckling them hard.

" _Oh_  ― oh, God ― yes, so  _good_!" she moaned, holding his head in place with both hands. He ground his crotch down onto hers. "God,  _yes_!" The sensation of his bulging erection pressing into her sore center did crazy things to her pulse. In minutes, she was climaxing again, limbs shaking, lying flat on her back, panting hard.

He smiled against the curve of her breast. "Glad to hear the lady is satisfied..."

The sight of him, pleased and willing to please her again, giving and asking for nothing in return, was too much. Acting on instinct, disregarding reason, she pulled him up to her and kissed him hard on the mouth.  _She wanted this fantasy to exist for just a little while longer. After all, there was no way this man was for real..._

* * *

What ensued next was, at least to him, insanity. Because he couldn't make sense of it.

Emma was tasting his tongue as if her life depended on it, melding their lips together as she explored his mouth. Per his promise, he let her take the lead, keeping his hands to himself...

Until she grabbed them and put them on her breasts. "Touch me," she whispered, her eyelids flickering, soft breaths a caress on his face.

"As you wish." Fingers tracing the shape of her nipples, he tentatively cupped each mound. Looking at her for affirmation, he began to knead them into hard peaks, savoring the feel of such forbidden flesh responding to him.

" _Oh_...I wish...I wish..." She threw her head back, golden tresses falling across her shoulders, lips parted in a gasp.

"Yes? What do you wish, my princess?" He nuzzled her neck, sliding his teeth over the smooth expanse. "Whatever you desire...I will give it to you."

She reached down and tugged on his shirt. "Undress... _please_."

"Hmm, so polite and eager," he grinned, unbuttoning it. He had had the sense enough to forgo undergarments, so it was just a matter of slipping off his shoes and his pants before he was bare before her. Naturally, the mask had to stay―

"You're not taking it off?" She fingered the edges, even circled around the back. Instinctively, he caught her wandering hand and held in in check.

"This is my condition, love ― you  _cannot_  see my face. Not now ― not ever. Do you understand?"

Suddenly demure, Emma hung her head. It was odd contrast to the sheer nakedness of her body, lush curves fully exposed and on display. "But..." She bit her lip, shaking her head at herself. "Never mind."

Taking her hand in his, he encouraged her to explore him, starting with the top of his chest. She took the initiative, until she was finally massaging his cock and  _bloody hell, what her fingers were doing to him felt so damn good._

"Better?" she whispered, leaning down to nip at his neck.

He groaned. " _Bloody damnation_ , lass ― it's fucking  _incredible_."

Her other hand snaked behind to grope his arse. "I know you want to stay... _anonymous_...but it will be impossible for me to forget you after tonight anyway." She moaned when he bucked into her hand. " _God, you're so well-endowed―_  Ahem. So if I were to...turn off the lights...would you take the mask off?" Her voice was husky, trilling into his ear.

"Why ― what's happening tonight?" he rasped.

There was quite the sultry smile on her lips when she answered, "Oh, that's right...I didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" He growled when she gripped his erect length hard.

She planted a kiss on his shoulder, her nails scratching against the hair on his chest. "That I've changed my mind."

His eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

The golden temptress then gave him a long, searching look. He could feel the change from ice to heat, from cool moon's shadow to sun's rays. It was as if she were reading his very heart, trying to dissect its many layers.

"You want to trust me." He licked his lips, certain he'd guessed right. "But you're afraid to. You want to reveal yourself, but it's too much of a risk. You don't want to get hurt."

Her green eyes pierced him. "And will you? Will you hurt me, after I let you in?"

His hands found her hips, pulling them forward until they were pressed against his. "Emma..." He kissed her tenderly, wanting her to imagine a moment of happiness, if only once. "I came here to fall at your feet and worship you, not ravage you and then run for the hills."

Her lips turned upward in a half-smile. "Then...you understand? What I want?"

He cleared his throat. Since when did he ever feel  _nervous_  around any woman? "Would the lady care to specify?"

The back of her hand stroked down the trail of hair leading to his groin. When her gaze locked on his, he thought of an enticing serpent, whose mesmerizing eyes created a trance from which its victims could not escape.  _No wonder half the club wanted her in their beds. He was ablaze, and he feared the only way to put a stop to the flames was to douse himself in her._

"I don't even know your name ― but that's okay." She steadied her voice. "There's no need for names...they only cause trouble. We'll have a room, with the lights off, and each other. This is a chance ―  _for me_. And there...there, I know what I want you to do."

He caressed her cheek with one finger. "Anything, love."

Her lips parted open, tongue flicking out. "I want you to fuck me."

* * *

He dipped down to nuzzle her neck, loving her soft cries of pleasure. He was careful to keep up the same pace, not pushing her too hard ―  _who would have thought the beauteous Emma Swan was still a virgin, eh? And that he would be her first?_

His cock fit perfectly inside her, stretching her tight walls until he was snug and surrounded and she was moaning from the ache he was fulfilling. He had thoroughly prepared and readied her for this moment ― and she was all he had dreamed of. Her breasts were heaving under him, nipples taut and undoubtedly reddened from his numerous suckles, and the feel of her hot skin under his own was too tantalizing for words. Her eyes were closed, shielding him from that all too powerful gaze of hers. Her hair was painted about them like a brush of gold strands, his fingers combing through them while he thrust in and out of her core. Goddess, indeed.

Or so he envisioned, since they had been plunged into pitch-black darkness ever since she had guided him to this "luxury couple suite."  _For only Cora's best hookers_ , she'd said. With the assortment of sounds she was making, Emma could be quite the formidable lover, if he taught her all he knew.

Bloody hell, he wanted her to be  _beyond_  satisfied at all times. He'd made a special effort with his foreplay skills this time around, something he hadn't done since Milah and that sodding mess, and once his sight had accustomed itself to the darkness, he was witnessing Emma Swan coming undone at the seams. And it was  _glorious_.

She mewed, fingers ensnared in his hair, thighs clasped about his waist like he'd instructed her to. Then her face turned to him, and her mouth sought his, tongues certainly up to the task.  _So much for rules... He wouldn't let her map out his face, but he would let her kiss him senseless._

Then she squeezed his length with a strong thrust in return. " _Emma_ ," he groaned, thrusting back with a passion. The bed shook under them.

"Oh God." She whimpered when he pinned her wrists above her head, lowering his lips to her nipples again. " _It's all too much ― I can't take it anymore―_ "

He didn't listen. Instead, he pressed onward, faster and harder until her breasts were bouncing and he was riding her frantically, chasing release. Her back arched under him after he touched her clit. "Yes, lass ― I want to feel you around me! Come with me!"

After she screamed, he stopped holding back, spilling his seed inside. "That's fucking brilliant," he moaned, clinging to her as she enjoyed her orgasm. "You're splendid."

* * *

When he'd pulled out and she was yet again lying on her back, heavy breaths a sign of her recovery, he didn't expect her to talk. "So, let's hear it." She sounded so  _hopeless_. "Was I a good lay?"

He couldn't see the expression on her face, but he could guess it was self-deprecating. Rolling the condom off his length, he tied it off and tossed it onto the floor. "Darling, I had sex with you because  _you_  asked me to."

Her tone was bitter when she snapped, "Oh, so you didn't ever imagine having sex with me because  _you_  wanted to?"

He cupped her cheek. "Aye...I won't deny it. You're a beautiful and fiery lass, Emma Swan. But please do not disparage what I said. I meant  _every_  word: I'm here to bring  _you_  pleasure. I didn't come for myself, no matter how much I want you."

"If I could see you right now, I'd use my superpower on you."

"And what's that?"

She sniffled. "I can tell if you're lying to me."

Gently, he spread her legs apart, sliding a finger between her still-wet folds. She gasped. "No need...I'll prove to you that I'm not. You are bloody  _amazing_ , you hear? A fucking wonder, you are..."

His tongue circled inside her, dancing along her contracting walls, tasting blood and their cum while his hands kept her from pushing up. When he licked and sucked, it didn't take long to have Emma flailing, her hips grinding onto his mouth as he thrust into her. "Such a sweet cunt ― you taste so good," he grunted.

She was crying out for him when she came a fourth time that night.

" _Holy fuck_ ," she hissed afterward, her nails embedded in the sheets. He slowly brought her down from her high, kissing every part of her skin.

After what seemed to be hours of silence between then, she interrupted it. "Um...when...how...how often can we do that?"

He smiled to himself, feeling proud. "Come? Or fuck?

"Both," she choked out, looking breathless and wretched.  _All because of him._

"Well...as often as you can sneak me in, I suppose."

She turned over onto her side, climbing on top of him. His cock hardened at the sensation brushing against the apex of her thighs, her breasts rolling over his chest.

"I should let you know right now: you're going to be a  _very_  busy,  _very_  tired man."

 _Cheeky wench ― oh, he could repay sass with sass..._  "Likewise, my dear Emma." His hands roamed her body, right for the taking. "But when will you find the time to take on such an endeavor?"

She smirked. "I'll  _make_  time."

"Excellent." He leaned forward to capture her lips with his. "I do love a challenge."

* * *

One corner of her lips curved upward. "Have you ever even seen the definition of a strip dance?"

Killian huffed, offended. " _Of course_  I have, lass. You don't want a piece of this devilishly handsome chap?" He gestured to his unclothed upper torso as daringly as he could, feeling more than a bit embarrassed by his bare legs and the bloody walk of shame that was his version of a damn striptease. It had been hard enough to slip into the Soiree tonight, let alone wander behind the front scenes and seek out his woman.  _If Cora only suspected any foul play..._

Emma giggled ― actually  _giggled_  because of something he had said ― and tossed her head back, blonde waves falling over her shoulders. He loved her like this, carefree and reckless. "Well, you are supposed to sell the goods, not ridicule them―"

"Oi!"

"But I appreciate your best effort." She gave him a mock curtsy. "Now, if you'd care to see how it's really done..." Slowly, she pulled off her tank top, throwing it at his feet. Killian's mouth went dry at the red lace bra she was sporting underneath, which was shown to be match with similar panties when she slipped out of her booty shorts in a few quick tugs.

"God help me," he groaned under his breath when she pranced around him, brushing herself up against him. It didn't help that he was only in his boxers. The lustful tunes playing in the background, all confident and provocative, were not supporting his self-esteem right now.

"How much do you want me?" she whispered, tracing the lines of his mask with her fingertips while nudging herself in front of him.

He peered at her through half-lidded eyes, his mouth watering. "I'd rather show than tell you, darling Emma." Licking his lips in what he hoped was a distracting way, he swallowed hard.

"Okay." She began to rock her hips in a slow circle, her bosom jutting up toward him. "But don't forget to dance..."

He felt a smile stretch his lips. Taking her into his arms, they created a new kind of harmony, their bodies moving together in sensual lines and steps, all of their own making. He kept her from losing her balance when she dipped her head back, and she kept him from leaving any inch of space between them. When her fingers hooked into the waistband of his underwear and dragged it down, he sighed, utterly content.

His own fingers itched to return the favor, but he didn't want to disturb this unusual chemistry of theirs, untainted ( _for now_ ) by sexual want.

"It's alright," she breathed into his ear, "I don't mind. Actually...I want you to..." She guided his hands to the thin straps of her brassiere.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then, as slowly as he could muster, he pushed the straps off those beautiful shoulders, raining kisses down on them. Moaning into his hair, her fingers dug into the muscles of his back when his mouth descended the column of her throat, finding her collarbone. He softly kissed around the lines of her bra cups, resting on her cleavage before he licked underneath in an unspoken question.

"What you do with your mouth..." She groaned. "I don't want you to stop. Don't stop."

Using his teeth, he bit down on the fabric and lowered one cup, revealing her sumptuous breast. "Hello, beautiful..." Lapping at the swells and enchanting curves of it, he finally rescued her taut nipple from the cold and welcomed it into his warm mouth, sucking and licking at it.

If her heavy moans and exhales were anything to go by, she shared his enthusiasm. His fingers had worked their way down, entering her slowly before thrusting in and out at a pace that pleased her.

Killian then freed the other breast, admiring it first before tasting it as well. "Beautiful...so beautiful..." His free hand ran down the planes of her stomach and her hips. "Not a day went by that I haven't thought of you, love..."

She toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing invisible shapes on his back with her fingertips. "Good ― because I saved this little number just for you..." One glance downward, one smirk up. "And it looks like you're really enjoying it..."

Growling, he rolled his hips against hers, wanting her to feel how much she has destroyed him. "Teasing me does not go unpunished, Swan."

She grabbed him by his pendants and tugged him forward. "But I'm not interested in good behavior." Her hand reached behind to unclasp her bra. "With you..." She slipped off her panties so deftly, he wondered how they had stayed on in the first place. "It's so much more fun to be naughty..."

_He was in deep trouble._

Emma cocked her head at him, studying his reaction. His cock throbbed. "How do you get off," she crooned, her fingers waltzing all over his chest, "when I'm not around? When you want me, but there's no other way to get satisfied?"

 _Oh, so she wanted to play that game, did she?_  Arching one eyebrow, he grinned saucily at her. "You want to watch?"

"Yes,  _please_."

Pulling out of her, he made her lie down on the bed, arms behind her head, while he stood some distance away. Then, slowly, he began to stroke himself, steadily pumping his length, playing with the tip.

"Are you ready for me? Ready for me to bury myself in your heat, smell the craze of lust in your sweat when you take me in... You crave me, don't you, Emma? The sense of freedom I bring, the passions I help you unleash... And most of all...you love the bloody pleasure you get when we fuck...because it's all for  _you_..." His pumps became faster and more intense.

Her breathing had become shallow, and she was writhing on the sheets. "God...so hot...even the way you talk is so fucking hot..."

He knew he was close, but damn that. He wanted his lass. "Let me come to you, princess," he pleaded. "I need you."

The answering smile on her face was brighter than the lamp on the bedside table. She opened her arms to him. And he, her willing servant, went to her. But not before she put one finger to her lips, another on the lamp's clasp. "Lights off," she purred, plunging them both into semi-darkness. He rolled a condom onto his cock and then pounced onto the bed.

When he finally sheathed himself inside her, he reveled in her whimpers and how she begged for him to  _move_. And she ripped off his mask the moment her hands were free from his hold, fingers instantly exploring his face as her mouth eagerly explored his own. The way they kissed was wanton, with nothing held back...he nearly forgot to keep thrusting when she captured his tongue and sucked on it. Moaning, he kneaded her breasts and then broke their embrace to leave love bites on her neck.

Just as he was about to come, she turned the tables on him by rolling them over. Throwing her head back, she took him inside her with a heady cry, her thighs squeezing his hips. But she didn't move.

 _If she thought he was upset..._ His voice was hoarse when he said, "Emma...take what you need. Ride me, love. Fuck me ―  _hard_."

Gasping, she ground herself against him, slow thrusts that became wild, frenzied, and almost furious. He palmed her breasts, rubbing at her nipples to give her more pleasure. The more he pushed back, the more she took in. "Yes ― yes, yes,  _yes_!" she moaned, hands on his waist.

Her orgasm was shattering, violent and full, rippling through him. With a shout, he came inside her, his cock milked dry by her vigor.

_That didn't prevent him from making her orgasm again later._

_And again. And again._

_Bloody fucking damnation, they made such a good team..._

* * *

Killian moaned internally, sated and lazily comfortable. He never imagined he would have this kind of intimacy with any woman after Milah ― and even that had been a lie... He wouldn't deny that he loved these stay-ins with Emma, where he got to see his beauty fall asleep and he could guard her while she dreamed... It was even better that they were both naked throughout, completely spent from numerous rounds of sex.

They didn't ask each other any personal questions, and she never complained to him what went on in her life. But having her with him like this felt so... _natural_. Like somehow, they had always belonged in this room, settled in each other's arms. He didn't care about those around him anymore ― had lost the fight to keep being honorable, like Liam would have wanted ― but when he was around Emma... She was reawakening so much in him that he'd thought lost forever.

Pillowing his head more onto her breasts, so soft and full, he almost purred from pleasure when she gently caressed his hair, massaging his scalp. "How was your day?" he quietly asked, wanting to know the reason why she had come on to him so  _eagerly_ , today of all days.

He heard her sigh, but she didn't answer. Then, when he was about to drop the inquiry altogether―

"Cora asked me if I've ever had sex."

His jaw dropped. "What the bloody hell―"

"I know ― that's kind of what I said." She chuckled sadly. "I asked why is she asking, she bitched about being my guardian and having the right to know..."

"Should have told the fucking slag to bugger off," he hissed, arms tightening their hold on her waist.

"Oh, I did." Her tone was bitter. "She changed her tune immediately, saying something about a Bae Gold having an interest in me...that Gold...he's kind of Cora's arch-nemesis or something...he's dug up a load of dirt on her, and now she's crawling for cover. According to her, selling me off to his son would lighten that load ― considerably. I'd be his new toy...if I can keep him  _satisfied_. She even gave me the pill...ordered me to start taking it daily."

Killian could feel her body tremble under his. "You know, rumor has it that she and Gold fucked back in the day..."

Through abundant sniffles, she let out a weak laugh. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely. They're quite the pair ― narcissistic old hag who wants too much power versus crippled old bag who wants only power. Quite the typical love story, if you ask me."

Emma burst into laughter, giggling and chortling. Mesmerized by the sounds, he joined in with a few chuckles of his own. Then, when the sudden merriment had died down, he was at a loss for words.

"Emma..." He swallowed hard, strangely glad she couldn't see him through the darkness. "I won't let her give you to him ―  _I bloody won't_."

"I thought...you said...that this was only about me. My wants, my needs. That you couldn't go beyond that. God, I don't even know your name..." Her own voice was shaky.

He crawled up to her, her breasts now pressed up against his chest. "Lass, I still can't tell you my name, for your own safety. Plus, I figure you'd rather have me alive rather than dead―"

"Don't joke about things like that!" she snapped.

"I'm not bloody joking! And especially not about this..." He leaned forward and kissed her, sighing against her lips when she responded to him. When they parted, he choked out, "Lass, I won't lie to you: I want to win your heart. Not through any trickery ― but because you want me."

"So this isn't just about sex?" She sounded skeptical.

He gulped. "In the beginning...it was, yes. But not now. Not during all this time, when I care... Emma, I  _care_  for you. You're all I bloody think about, day and night."

"You got all this from seeing me dance naked a couple of times in the club?"

"So bloody stubborn," he growled. "Yes, woman ― when I saw you dance for the first time, so bloody mysterious and aloof, I knew I had to meet you. And when I did... You and I, we understand each other. We have a connection. It's not just your stunning looks, my dear...it's  _you_. I want  _you_."

"Really?" Her voice broke. "Not even my own parents wanted me ― that's why they didn't fight harder. They left me,  _alone_ , with Cora―"

"I'm sure they did their best to save you, love," he soothed, petting her hair. Wayward curls reflected the small flicker of moonlight peeking through the high window, becoming glittering gold. "You mustn't give up hope. Believe in a happy ending. Believe in the life you deserve. Believe in  _us_."

* * *


	4. Never close our eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This entire prequel has been partly influenced by the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche ― and somehow, Romeo and Juliet references wormed their way in as well, though it was unintentional.

It was nice to see that he could still make Gold flinch. The man was as cold as ice, but sometimes his façade did crack around the edges, if one squinted hard enough to see it.

Dangling his legs in the air, Killian lounged at ease on the large desk, pretending to admire the heavy brass globe on front display. "Long time no see,  _boss_ ," he drawled, giving it a spin.

Gold sneered, a look of disgust on his face. The door shut with a bang. "Making yourself at home, I see."

"Almost is my home, considering how bloody often I'm here, being your goddamn errand boy." He gave him a mock frown. "Upset to see me? I'm hurt, mate."

"What is it you want, dearie?" He went behind his desk. "Surely it's not to exchange pleasantries with me."

Killian's eyes narrowed.  _Time to go in for the kill._  "I got your message. Why do you want me to stop infiltrating Cora's lair?"

"What a surprise ― you like pirating other people's secrets after all," he answered sarcastically. There was just an edge of darkness in his tone, a slight pressure not to pry further. "My business there is done, and therefore so is your work. I have what I need."

 _Damn him._  "And yet you're sending your own  _beloved_  son to romance one of Cora's own out from under her."

Gold had a sickening look on his face, as if he'd just swallowed something sour but was about to say something sweet. "Ah, the lovely Miss Swan. She confided in you that little plan, did she?"

"Aye ― since Cora bloody  _blackmailed_  her with it."

"Well, you know me, dearie ― I never do anything without a reason."

" _Selfish_  reasons," he hissed.

"Between doing what's right for everyone and what's right for me, I'd pick myself every single time. Don't lie to yourself, Hook ― you'd do the same. After all," he grinned manically, "you've forgotten how to do the alternative."

If he didn't get himself under control, he was going to punch the fucking bastard. "Why are you bringing Emma into your twisted games? What the  _hell_  does she have to do with all this?"

"That's  _my_  business," Gold snapped.

His temper crackled. "The bloody hell it is ― you're playing with her life here,  _crocodile_! And now you're bringing Baelfire into―"

In under a minute, Gold had his cane up against his windpipe. Killian wheezed, starting to choke. "Don't you  _dare_  say his name," he growled between gritted teeth. "What he does is none of your affair. If he wants to go out, he goes out. If I recommend he visit a club, he will go. And if I suggest that the leading dancer there is worth his while  _watching_ , then so be it. Understood?"

He sputtered, "You can't do this―"

"Why? Because Miss Swan is yours? You've managed to find yourself a steady whore instead of those nameless sluts you parade around with for just a night?" When Killian glared at him, clenching his fists, Gold suddenly changed his tune. "Oh...I see. It's not that simple, is it? Oh no. You've gone and done the one thing no man involved in our world should do: you have  _feelings_  for the enemy."

"She's no enemy―"

"Because you care for her. Because you want to protect her. Because somewhere along the way, you've found a kindred spirit in the Charmings' darling orphan girl―"

"And it is  _your_  fucking fault that she's in Cora's clutches today!" Killian shouted back, pushing Gold off. He aimed and swiped at his face with his fist, grinning with satisfaction at the broken, bleeding nose the older man now sported.

That was before Gold withdrew a long knife of nowhere and pressed it to his throat. The edge scraped along his jugular, toying with skin. "Be careful,  _Hook_. It's  _bad form_  to assault your employer. One might say...quite  _detrimental_  to your well-being. And your  _girlfriend's_." Slowly, after several minutes of discordant eye contact, he backed away. "You're lucky, lad, that you're not worth getting blood on my hands for. Does she even know, by the way? Does Miss Swan know who you really are and what you really do, besides the lies you've told her?"

"Bugger off," he snarled. "I would  _die_  fighting for her, for  _us_ , if it's the last thing I do. Emma deserves to be more than Cora's slave. She deserves to be free of this madness." Killian lifted his head proudly, trying to keep the rest of his anger in check.

Gold's teeth glinted in the low lamplight. "Well, dearie...you just may get your wish."

* * *

"Cora calls it the Hall of Mirrors." Emma rolled her eyes. She tugged on his hand, pulling him further into the wide room. "She makes all of the girls use it for dance practice, so it's rare to ever find it empty."

Killian gaped at the mirrored walls, every panel twice his height and width. They had been polished until they shone, with not a blemish or smudge on any inch of glass. Right in the center of the open space were center poles, erected from the floor into the ceiling where two equally formidable chandeliers hung. "Very impressive, love."

She smirked a little, double-locking the door. "Yeah...it's also more than a little distracting."

His eyebrows arched. "How so?"

Gliding over the wooden floor, she slid her hand down the barre installed on the back wall, high heels clacking with every step she took. "When we practice, we're usually not alone. But it's helpful, when we're dancing...to think of things."

"What kind of things, lass?"

"Like..." She blushed crimson. The sight made him smile. "Most girls imagine how they want to be fucked."

"Oh?" he rasped, his skin starting to burn.

"Mhm..." she hummed, obviously pleased by his response. "It helps to think of sex when we're stripping...it's easier to picture yourself putting on a show for one lover than a crowd, you know? So we think about how to look sexy, how to arouse someone ― and do it. Some of the girls even...get off, when they strip."

His throat tightened. "I see. Lack of male audience is not a problem then, is it?"

Emma chuckled. "Well, not everyone is interested in  _men_... Mulan and Aurora have a hard time not making out when they're in the same room, so they practice their routine together. Alone." She fumbled with the ties of her robe. "Me...I always thought of how to make myself look good, how to best show myself off."

"And now?" He recognized the timbre of his own voice, deep and rough and filled with longing. He didn't want to share Emma with anyone. The past was in the past, but...now, he felt like she was  _his_. And he most certainly was not interested in anyone else. If he couldn't have her, he came by way of his hand.

Naturally, he couldn't tell her any of that. He didn't have a right to.

Her eyes locked with his. "Now...I think of you."

"How?" he demanded, eager to hear more.

Her lips parted in a sigh. "When you look at my body, you don't see just a hunk of female flesh ― you see  _me_. As a woman ― a person ― a  _human being_ , with  _feelings_. When you touch me...I can feel how much you want me, and how much you want me to want you. You never take anything without asking, and you always give more than you get."

Her eyelids fluttered. "And when we...when we  _fuck_...it's how you drive into me, pushing me to that final edge without thinking of yourself first. You  _always_  put me first. I love that ―  _all_  of it. Sometimes..." she whispered, "I don't shower afterwards, just to keep the smell of you on my skin as long as I can."

" _Fuck_ , Swan," he muttered under his breath, biting back a groan.  _She had no idea how bloody much she affected him._

Turning so that her back was leaning against the barre, she stretched out her arms until she was gripping the handrail with both hands, fingers curling around it. Clothed only in a long red robe, matched by the bright red high-heeled shoes she was wearing, golden hair tousled and rosy lips puckered, Emma was the very incarnation of lust as she stared him down, gaze full of challenge.

In return, he smirked, welcoming that familiar thrill of desire into his veins. "What  _do_  you have under there, my lovely one?" he leered.

She peered at him from under her eyelashes, slowly licking her lips. "It's a gift," she purred, swaying her hips from side to side.

"For me? How kind." He stalked her, pacing back and forth. "How... _thoughtful_. And was there a certain... _intent_ , behind this charming present?"

She only grinned widely before unraveling the robe, dropping it on the floor with what could only be wicked pomp.

He thought his eyes would leave his head, he was so startled. "Dear  _God_ , Emma," he hissed, bracing himself.

It wasn't just lingerie. It was form-fitting nude stockings and black garter belt and black thong and  _bloody hell_ , that  _goddamn_  black brassiere that was barely covering her nipples. He swallowed thickly.

"You like it?" Her voice was breathy, enticing, an almost moan that held unspoken promises. Then she crossed one leg over the other, rubbing her thighs together.

His face grew hot. "Bugger."

She arched a brow at him. "That doesn't sound like a compliment―"

Growling, he hurled himself at her, lunging into her open mouth with his tongue. Groaning, she dug her fingertips into his scalp when she clung to him, kissing him back like a bloody force of nature herself, a gale of want sweeping through him. Wrapping his arms around her, he cradled her head to deepen the kiss, pursuing the sweetness of her.  _His passion for her was boundless, really_ , he mused as her breasts rubbed against his chest. His shirt was low-necked, so he could feel her warmth over his bared, pounding heart, urging him to continue.

Grabbing her bottom, he hauled her up so that she was sitting on the barre, legs stationed on his hips, high heels scratching at his arse. Gathering her into his arms once more, he created a path of searing kisses from the corner of her lips until he was running down her neck with his mouth, licking at skin and tender pulse and  _Emma_.

"You look like a goddess, ready to plunge me into ruin with a single look." He groaned when she rolled her hips against his. In retaliation, he mouthed at her nipple through the thin lace of the bra cup, sure that it wanted his attention. "I love unwrapping you from these bloody garments of yours."

She clutched his head to her chest, moaning lowly when he sought her other breast. "God, I need your mouth on me," she whined, pulling at his hair. "I really wanted to take things slow tonight, but..." She gasped when he caressed along the bow ties on each side of her thong, fingering the ribbons. Then he dipped down between her thighs and teased her with more delicate touches. "But it's so hard...you've made all of this so addictive. It's hard not to want you."

"Explains why we usually wake up in the middle of the night to have another go at it...or two...or three..." He grinned wickedly. "It's okay, darling ― I've made it no secret that I love your cunt wrapped around me, so you can say, without shame, that you love the feel of my cock in you."

Tossing her head back and giggling, she swatted at his shoulder. His smile widened. Her laughter died out when he undid her underwear with one tug at the strings, casting off the garter. Lowering himself onto his knees, he deftly unrolled her stockings and removed her shoes. Then he kissed her feet, moving smoothly up her legs until he was right above the apex of her thighs.

"Wonderful," he purred, rubbing his nose down her center. He licked at her exposed lips. She whimpered. "Emma, you are  _decadent_."

He could see her knuckles turning white as she tightened her grip on the barre. "Tell me more," she moaned. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

His hands slid underneath until they were on her bottom, groping the round cheeks greedily. "You sure about that, darling?"

"Yes," she chanted.

"Well...first, I'm going to taste you. When my tongue laps at your walls, it won't be gentle ― because I'm so  _hungry_  for you, Emma... I'm starving, utterly  _famished_ for you. I want your juices in my mouth, pouring down my throat, filling my belly." He pressed a kiss to her mound. It was clean shaven, probably another of that heartless bitch's orders.

"And when I'm sure I've had my fill...my stomach bursting with you...I'm going to pull you off your pedestal. Lay you out on this floor. And take you,  _repeatedly_ , until you ask me to stop. I won't let myself come until you tell me you can't handle the pleasure I'm giving you."

With the sounds leaving that beautiful mouth of hers, it was all he could do to keep up some bloody semblance of control and not fuck her right now. "Your heat, surrounding my cock...like a vise, tempering it... Do you love how full I make you feel, lass? Do you wonder sometimes how deep I can go?"

Emma nodded in answer to his questions, panting hard. Her hands started to wander, clawing at her brassiere. "It's too hot in here," she whined, arching her back. Then her eyes met his, and a flirtatious smile curled her lips. "I'm burning..." She thumbed at the single hook that clasped her bra together in front. "But I want more..."

He pulled off his shirt, feeling her gaze on him the entire time. "Something you needed, darling?" he teased.

She pouted at him. "You promised―"

"I know, sweetheart." His hands ran up her hips until they were hovering over each bra cup. She moaned happily when it seemed that he was about to pull them off, but at the last minute, he changed his mind. Instead, he gripped her sides. "But this time, I want you to help me. Unhook it. Then rip both off," he instructed.

Biting her lower lip, she did as he bade her. Taking off that damn slip of fabric revealed how her breasts were heaving, nipples taut and begging for his touch. It was arousing as hell and he couldn't stop staring at them, full and round and  _mouth-watering_. He could never have enough of Emma Swan.

"Are you just going to look?" Her voice broke. "Or are you going to―"

"Patience, love." He nudged her thighs farther apart. As soon as her lips were spread and open, he settled in. He kissed them softly before he started to lick.

His tongue, fast and thirsty, found her center. When he circled inside, purposely rough, she cried out, clenching her thighs. "That's it, Emma ― be as wanton as you want." He lifted her legs over his shoulders. "When you're with me, I want you to  _express_  your desires as  _thoroughly_  as you can."

At the pace he set, his tongue wild and eager, she was almost jumping up and down on the barre, bra cups dangling from the thin straps. "Spread your legs more for me―" he growled against her core. With her sitting Indian-style on the rail, he could see every precious bit of her, her sex on center display for him. "Your cunt's  _gorgeous_ , darling ― delicious and tight and so, so fucking  _wet_. I love how much you show you want me ― my cock's itching to get into you next."

Her heels dug into his back when he swirled his tongue inside her while nibbling on her clit. "That's  _perfect_  ― God, you're good ― keep going ―  _fuck_ ―" Quickly, two of his fingers were thrusting into her as well. When they curled up and touched her secret spot, she moaned louder. "I'm close ― go harder ― oh yes―"

"With pleasure," he hissed, hands sliding up again to cup her bare arse. He penetrated deeper, sucking and swallowing in all she gave him. He looked up to watch her, but was dismayed to find her eyelids closed. " _Emma_." Her eyes snapped open, dark and hooded, smoldering at him. "That's a good girl ― watch me as I devour you."

When engaging Emma in these  _activities_ , he loved how her breasts danced wildly in rhythm, a sign of how much she was giving in to her pleasure. Viewing their undersides, motionless or not, was just as arresting a sight. He decided to make things even more interesting. "Cup your breasts for me, love."

Emma gritted her teeth. "If I let go of the bar, I'll lose my balance―"

"Nonsense ― I'm holding you steady." He squeezed the cheeks of her bottom reassuringly. Then he dropped his voice to a seductive trill, one he knew aroused her. "Touch them for me, Emma ― feel yourself, how primed you are for me..."

"I thought you were quite a fan of my breasts," she pouted.

 _Damn, what a sultry lass._  He grinned. "Why, I'm a fan of every part of you, Swan! Don't get me wrong, love...I take great pride in adoring those two beauties of yours, but right now, I kind of need a hand." He crooked his eyebrow. Defiance always did become him. "Afraid to try something new?"

However, instead of arguing, she blushed. Tentatively, her hands cupped the peaks and started to massage them, fingers stroking and pinching her nipples with sensual care. It was quite compelling. " _Oh_ ," she whimpered, lips parting open in a sigh.

He glanced at the opposite wall. Seeing their reflections, where Emma wantonly touched herself as he fucked her with his mouth, was too erotic for words. "Look at yourself in the mirror, love," he growled, emphasizing his command with a rough thrust. "You're bloody beautiful, 'specially when you're wrecked for me like this."

Gasping, she stared at herself, palming her breasts even more, excitedly thumbing at her tender nipples. Then she glared at his reflection. "Hey, why did  _you_  stop?"

Chuckling, he resumed his ministrations, doing his best to make her shout and moan. Their mirror images approved.

"Oh my  _god ― yes_!" she cried. She was tilting forward, hips bucking up, her thighs shaking. "Oh god, oh  _god_... Please... _please_  come up here...help me..."

After one last suckle on her clit, he jumped to his feet and wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her. "I've got you, Emma..." He put in two fingers again and scissored them rapidly, trying to make her come. "Give in...don't hold back..." When he turned his head toward her, she surged forward and fiercely drove her tongue between his lips, trying to gain access to his mouth, her hands enveloping his face.

He had never felt so alive in his life as during that kiss. When he let her in, she set his blood on fire, consuming him. Finally, he felt her walls spasm around his fingers, and he swallowed her answering scream. Her back arched, pressing her breasts against his bare chest.

" _Bloody fucking hell._ " His pants were getting so tight that even shifting about was bloody uncomfortable. He needed release.

* * *

Pulling her off the barre and into his embrace, he gently placed her, limp and sated, on the makeshift blanket that was his jacket, spread out on the floor. She immediately lay down flat, removing her dangling bra and throwing it aside.

Unzipping his fly, he shimmied out of the slinky leather and tossed it away, together with his shoes into the corner. "Much better," he groaned, palming his throbbing length.

A low gasp came from behind him. Her luscious body stretched out, hair completely disheveled, lips red and swollen...Emma was still recovering from the throes of passion, panting heavily. But she was eyeing his erection with such  _desire_.

"Don't do that." She crawled to him on her hands and knees.  _Bloody―_  Her breasts were jutting out when she knelt in front of him ―  _damn it, her nipples were becoming erect again_. She licked her lips when he toyed with the tip of his cock. "I want to take you into my mouth."

"Emma...you do understand what that means ―  _bloody hell, woman_ ―" She had grabbed his backside and wrapped her moistened lips around him. He opened his mouth to object, attempting to pull away, but she just smirked. And began to suckle, gripping his buttocks hard.

He cursed and swore while she ran her tongue up and down his shaft, licking it, tasting it. Her gaze locked on his, she laved at the tip. His hands found her hair, threading through the curls. She ran her teeth down his entire length, saying how good he tasted. With a shout, he let himself enter her mouth in a series of shallow thrusts, enjoying how she moaned and hummed as her rosy lips pleasured him. She was a vision ― on her knees while sucking his cock, rising breasts and pert arse sticking out. The thought of how they were fucking, how eager she was to see him undone, made him even harder. It got worse when her deft fingers massaged his balls.

 _He was going to come ― inside Emma Swan's wicked little mouth..._ Killian started. This had become all about  _his_  lust, and it was bloody _wrong_. It was why he had never dared to ask for a blow job during all the times they'd been together.

"No, darling ― not like this―" After some effort, he pulled her off of him, sitting down beside her. It was hard, when he felt like he was about to spurt out all over the damn floor. "I came for you, not for me, remember?"

She pursed her lips. "I was trying to―"

"I know what you wanted to do." He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. "And by God, I appreciate it. But no more oral for tonight." He pointed at his lap. "Come here?"

A slow smile crossed her lips. She knelt on either side of him, hands on his shoulders so she could tower over him. When her wet folds nudged his cock, he knew it was on purpose. "Okay...but I have a request."

"Aye?" He gulped when she angled herself so that his face would be buried in her breasts.

"Aye..." she imitated. "You've made me wait long enough, so here's the deal: I get to talk dirty this time. No more foreplay. No more teasing." Her mouth was by his ear. "Just us, fucking into oblivion."

"Deal." He fisted his hand in a bunch of her golden locks, yanked her head back, and lunged upward so he could reach her throat, biting and licking at it. "After all," he said between searing kisses, "your being in control is such a... _seductive_  position."

She ripped his hand from its hold, aggressively raking her fingers through his hair. "Less talking..." Rubbing a nipple over his lips, she parted her legs so that she was straddling him. "More  _doing_."

He laughed darkly.  _Oh, she had no idea what she had just unleashed._  His lips closed around the tip of one breast and began to suck hard. Meanwhile, he was busy groping at every part of her he could get his hands on.

His eyes rolled back into his head as she sank down on his cock, not even pausing for a moment before she started to thrust up and down. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing along the flesh there. "Knead my breasts," she ordered, "after you've milked them well."

"Yes, my princess," he smirked, releasing one breast with a resounding pop and then seeking the other. Her nipples tasted wonderful, ripe and succulent. He lapped at them like a thirsty man.

She did something with her pelvis that made him see bloody  _stars_. "Don't slow down ― fuck me like you mean it ― I want to feel  _every_   _inch_  of your  _magnificent_  cock inside me ― come  _on_ ―"

"Like this?" he hissed, rutting up against her with near-violence.

"Oh ―  _oh_  ― yes ―  _yes_  ― come on ―  _oh fuck yes_..." She clenched her thighs, grinding down onto him. He ground back, pivoting his hips. "You could do even better, though..."

He saw red. Leaving her breasts to the work of his hands, he sought her mouth. Their tongues fought recklessly ― she bit down on his bottom lip and he sucked on hers, their heads twisting this way and that as they each struggled for dominance over the kiss.

" _Better_?" he spat out, squeezing her breasts hard. "Admit it, love ― you wait for me every night, don't you? With nothing on, spread out on your bed, aching for me and what my body always brings you?"

"And what might that be?" she replied in between furious kisses, continuing to ride him.

" _Ecstasy_." He forced her down so that he was on top of her. Pushing her thighs apart, putting her legs over his shoulders, he picked up where she left off, diving deep into her so that he filled her channel. "Damn it, Emma ― your bloody cunt ― wet, waiting for me―"

He moaned when she thrust back, just as deeply.  _Damn being gentle._  This time, he was rough and needy, pursuing his long-delayed release, riding her frantically. She mewled, arching under him, thrusting her hips up. But her climax was not enough to push him over the edge. Pinning her hands over her head, he pounded mercilessly into her through her orgasm, mouthing at her breasts.

He was so satisfied to hear her cry and moan and shriek and  _scream_  it out as he brought her to completion.  _Perhaps he was being too greedy, too demanding_ , he mused while he felt her orgasm a second time, triggered by his successive thrusts _._  His doubts were silenced when she cried out during her third climax, "More ― fuck, give me  _more_!"

Finally, his groin tightened, and he spilled his seed in her.  _God, he was grateful that she was now on the pill._  It felt so different, having his cock enveloped directly by her heat, unhindered by barriers. He groaned around her breast, fingering her clit to help her orgasm one last time.

" _Oh god yes_!" she screamed, pulsing around him.

Spent, he collapsed on top of her. For several minutes, neither of them moved.

"Hot  _damn_ ," she managed to breathe out from beneath him. Slipping out of her and rolling to the side, he kissed her tenderly before grabbing his pants. From the back pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief, presenting it to her with a flourish. Her face had been downcast, but now she looked utterly perplexed.

"You don't have to―"

"Hush, sweetheart. You're covered in liquid ― let me wipe you off, aye? It's no trouble." Slowly, he cleaned between her thighs, certain to mop up all of his leftover semen and her arousal.

She was staring at him as if she couldn't believe he cared. "How many women have you slept with, before me?"

His mouth went dry. This of all places, to discuss his sexual history― "Quite a few, if I'm being honest." He had a hard time meeting her gaze, even though his mask concealed what was most important. He leered at the cloth instead. "Most of my encounters were casual and a one-time thing. I...I only loved one woman, and the circumstances of her death made me forswear that kind of emotional bond in my life. Fucking is just about sex...but making love? It's about showing another how much you care for them. I haven't done that in years...come to think of it, probably not at all."

"You didn't love her?" Emma whispered, brushing hair out of his eyes.

"No...turns out she didn't love me ― she  _never_  loved me." Even thinking of Milah, the guilt her memory provoked...he pushed it back, stifled inside by bitterness. Abruptly, he stood up, yanked on his pants, and searched for his shirt.

Her hand stopped him from walking away. When she entwined their fingers, he could swear his heart skipped a beat at the proffered intimacy. "Stay with me?" she pleaded.

He ran his other hand through his mussed hair, trying to somehow comb it. "I really should be going―"

"You can stay." She also climbed to her feet. Her bare form was as intoxicating as it was lovely, but the light in her eyes sparked a feeling of want in him. A different kind of want, where someone saw him as more than a good lay for the night. Where someone wanted him for longer. "I may not know your name, or see your face, but...I know  _you_. We're the same person, in so many ways."

He handed her her robe. Although she slipped it on, she left it open. "Now, now ― I don't want you to feel sorry for me, lass ― after all, I'm here to make  _you_  feel good―"

"Stop hiding behind that." She fingered his mask, her breasts spilling out over his chest. "This thing? It may hide what you look like, but me...I can still  _see_  you. And...I...I  _love_  what I see," she finished, her tone fierce and determined.

He didn't know  _what_  to say, honestly. Was it possible, that somewhere along the way, Emma had fallen for him, incognito identity and all? "Have you ever even been in love?"

"I am now." She threaded her fingers through his hair, until her hands were clasped around his neck. "You don't have to be alone, you know ― you can be part of something." Her nose nudged his. "You can be with  _me_."

His throat clenched. He'd been seeing her ― furtively ― for so many months now. All of a sudden, the feelings he'd been denying every instant they'd been separated came to a head. Hell, he  _loved_  Emma Swan. He loved this little lost girl, entrapped by her past and her future in this hellhole.

Her kiss, hesitant but sweet, was heavenly. The ones they'd shared so far paled in comparison. Perhaps that was because this one was so damn  _loving_.

"Let's go back to the room." She stroked his jawline with her fingers, seemingly not upset that she couldn't even see his cheek. "Stay the night, in bed with me ― like always."

How had this become a routine he relied on so thoroughly? The thought of disappointing her already tore at him. And denying his own love for her would only hurt more ― bloody hell,  _she said she loved him_.

"There's something I've got to do first." Purpose, intent, cause, motives...all those mighty words ceased to exist in light of the possibility of leaving regret behind for good. He could surrender to new love.  _Fuck you, Gold ― I'm not your bloody puppet._

Killian tugged at the clasps till both sides holding the mask together fell apart. Slowly, he took it off. Her eyes widened. "You need to see my face ― my real face ― before you make this choice, Emma. Because from tonight onward, it won't be just about us having sex ―  _bloody fantastic_  sex though it may be. It will so much more than that. My heart will constantly want to seek yours out..." He rubbed a wayward curl of hers between his fingers. "Because my heart  _is_  yours, darling. It has been for some time."

The back of her hand caressed his cheek. Then her fingertips explored his revealed features, traveling up and down and across until she had touched all of his face. "You're more handsome than I imagined," she breathed, turning red when she realized what she had said.

He swallowed his conflicted pride, wanting to be worthy of her compliment and yet happy that she liked what she saw. "Like it?"

She nipped at his lips. "Like  _it_? I'm a fan of every part of you."

He chuckled at that. "Glad to hear it, lass."

"So, what's next?" Smiling, she threw her arms around him, staying close.

He hung his head. "I still can't tell you my name―"

"Eh, names are overrated." She winked. "Besides, a rose is a rose, right, no matter what it's called?"

"Did you just quote  _Shakespeare_  at me?"

"Hey, a girl's got to do something to pass the time...reading's very efficient. It also keeps me from fantasizing about all the dirty things that I want you to do to me. Plus, there's tons of romance novels in the library here." She leaned forward and caught his earlobe between her teeth, licking at his earring. "Or would you rather I find some  _other_  occupation? Because Cora has many clients―"

He lifted her up, her legs encircling his waist, so that he could carry her in his arms. "No, Swan ― you're all  _mine_ ," he rasped.

She was making it extremely hard for him to focus on grabbing all their clothes when she was kissing along his neck like she was _worshiping_ his bloody skin. "Hmm...it feels like you're very interested in marking me right at this moment...is that a signal of some sort?"

She reached for the doorknob behind her. It clicked unlocked after she turned it. "What do you think?" she purred, tilting her head back so he could see how her breasts were already in a state of arousal. Because of  _him_.

His voice was husky and ragged when he asked, "You want me...us...to...?"

"Make love? Yes. Let's make love." She gave him a passionate kiss, leaving him breathless and quite jubilant. "From now on, you're not here to fuck me ―  _we_  make love, to each other. Starting with tonight."

He eyed her up and down before he opened the door. "You're not tired out already? After all the times we've...?"

"No way ― as far as I see it, we were just getting started..." Smiling, Emma kissed him speechless.

* * *

"Oh, somebody's in a good mood," Ruby smirked.

Emma got up from the final position in her new dance routine. "Afraid of a little competition?" she tossed back, grabbing her towel from the nearby bench.

"Not at all ― in fact, it's good to have things spiced up around here. Makes life less boring." She slipped on a red t-shirt. "Mayhem is mighty."

"There's nothing  _that_  different about my dancing."

The dark-haired woman grinned, flashing her bright teeth. "Oh, I wasn't talking about dancing. It's you, with your I-get-laid-every-night look and secret smiles you think no one notices."

Emma felt blood drain from her face. "What the hell are you talking about?" she hissed, her heart pounding.

"I hear things, Emma... Like Tink said she just saw a 'tall, dark, and mysterious stranger' leave the deluxe suite around dawn ― you know, the four-room penthouse suite where Cora sends her millionaire clients to get fucked." Ruby cocked her head, whispering, "You never came to your room that night ― Aurora didn't see you. You were out."

"Are you  _watching_  me or something?"

"No..." She picked at her nails, long and painted blood-red. "But you should have seen yourself like six months ago. You looked absolutely miserable ― you always have, because you never fit into this crazy lifestyle, where we have to show off our bodies to make money. You're just lucky because you never have to sell yourself afterwards. Cora's been keeping you in a fucking safety net."

Emma cringed. It was no secret that prostitution was the only way the girls could manage to save any money from their meager earnings as strippers. For a lot of cash, many were willing to service men. If rumors were to be believed, Ruby's boyfriend and grandmother had been killed when Ruby was a teen. Desperate for work, she had been forced to join the Mills Soiree.

"Anyway...the last few months...God, what a change. You're like...brighter. You're  _glowing_ , even when you perform. It's got to be a man's doing."

She pursed her lips. "Cora―"

"She's a double-crossing bitch ― I know. But hey, you can spill the beans to me...no names or anything." Ruby sounded so excited. "He's got to have seen you at the club, right?"

Emma blushed. Telling one person shouldn't hurt anything... "Yeah... Um, he kind of paid thousands of dollars just to meet me..."

"What?!"

"And he didn't want to have sex."

Her dark eyes narrowed. "Is he some kind of pervert?"

"No!" Emma protested, thinking of how honorable and kind he was to her, and as for those matters... "God, he's  _amazing_  in bed."

Ruby grinned knowingly. "Ah, so he finally popped your cherry."

"Ruby!" she wailed, growing embarrassed.

"What, it's not like it was some kind of secret you were a virgin! So...as  _senior_  girl here, I get priority on details. How was your first time?"

Emma smiled, remembering. "Fucking  _brilliant_."

"He uses protection? Is clean? Hot? Treats you right?" She smacked her lips. "Does he have any particular  _preferences_  in the bedroom?"

"Yes to all five." She glared at Ruby. "I'm not telling you about our sex life."

She just smiled wider. "I bet you  _love_  being on top."

"Oh my god..."

"How many rounds a night?"

" _Ruby_..."

"He's  _that_  good, huh? Please tell me you're on the pill―"

"Of course I am!"

"Have you given him a striptease yet?"

"Not telling."

"What about blow jobs? Men love those..."

"This is none of your business!"

"I think it is." Ruby's gaze was suddenly sad. "See, there's something you don't know about me. Emma...I was friends with your mother."

She was struck speechless. Ruby didn't look that old― "Impossible. Cora said my parents left the country or something. How could you―"

"Cora threatened me never to talk about it, to  _anyone_. But just know...that you remind me of  _her_ , every day. I worry for you, and I'm looking out for you. If you ever need someone to talk to ― a friend or a confidante, or you just need help ― I'm here. Be careful, okay? If Cora ever finds out about him ― or even worse, that you care about each other at all ― she'll destroy him. Trust me...I know from experience."

Emma's head was in a whirlwind. She couldn't wrap her mind around what Ruby had just revealed. Before she could question her further, the woman patted her on the shoulder and then eased past her, slipping out the door.

_What the heck was all that about?_

* * *

He left a chain of kisses down her chest, over her stomach, pausing before her center and then trailing upward. His lips didn't forget her arms, bringing the warmth and slickness of his mouth as well as the scratch of his beard, outlining her shoulders and her neck before dropping down again to the curves of her breasts, licking at the swells, twirling the tip of his tongue around her areolae. Then he took her nipples into his mouth, sucking on each of them gently.

"My beautiful Swan," he moaned around the tender buds. The resulting vibrations sent tendrils of want to her core. "My darling."

"Please," she gasped, tightening her hold on his shoulders. "I  _need_  you."

"As milady wishes." Placing his knee between her thighs, he slid into her, covering her body with his. The feel of his hard length, thrusting in and out of her throbbing center, every moment fluid and complete... God, it  _was_  good.

Emma couldn't contain her cries of contentment when he started to ride her faster. It was such a difference, making love... She sensed his care, his  _love_ , in the way he took her. "Oh  _yes_ ," she moaned, running her hands down his back. "Yes, that's right ― so  _right_ ―"

He sought her gaze, engulfing her cheek with the palm of his hand. "Am I making you feel good, love?" His worried, anxious tone struck at her.

"Hell,  _yes_." When she leaned forward to kiss him, he moaned into her mouth, taking his time to taste her. "How about you?"

"Perfect," he grunted, rubbing at her clit with his thumb. "You are bloody  _perfection_ , Emma."

Her lips parted as she burned with unadulterated pleasure, tension unleashed. A groan rumbled in his throat. He came not long after, spilling himself inside her.

She leaned up to kiss him. Unexpected tears leaked out from under her eyelids, trailing down her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered against his lips, unable to stop shaking.

He caressed her jaw. "Sweetheart, what is it? You're been quiet all night long. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong ― I hate to see you upset."

"It's nothing." She rolled them over, mounting him. "I just need... _more_." Tossing her head back, she guided him into her again, pivoting her hips.

"Emma..." He sat up, pulling her onto his lap.

She whined, rocking forward, urging him to react. "Please―"

"Not until you speak to me about what's bothering you." He lifted her chin. "It's clearly bad enough that you want to distract me from it with sex."

"I thought you said we'd talk only if I wanted to."

"Aye." He leaned his forehead against hers. "But I would be honored if you would consider it."

 _Such strong blue eyes, boring into her. His face was always in her dreams._  She toyed with his chest hair, unsure what she could say. "It's Cora again. I...she...it looks like she knows. About us. Well, not exactly about you, but me."

"What's the  _Queen_  up to this time?" he drawled, tapping the tip of her nose playfully.

"She hasn't talked to me recently, but Jefferson... He told me yesterday that from now on, I'm to do shows four times a week ― twice per night." She swallowed hard.

"Twice a―"

"And he also told me that she..." Emma bit down hard on the side of her cheek, willing herself not to burst. "She expects me to  _entertain_  any high-paying clients who ask for me."

"But your rules... What about her other bloody suggestion? Gold's son?"

She shrugged, feeling hopeless. "He's one of them."

"Well, I won't bloody have it, lass," he growled. "I'll outbuy them all ― you'll be with me―"

"No!" She shook her head. "Don't you see that's what she wants? If you started doing that, she'd figure out in no time that you're seeing me behind her back." Her hands cupped his face.

His jaw tightened. "Emma, I won't let any of those fucking bastards lay a hand on you―"

"The girls have been talking. Somehow, Cora must have noticed my 'different behavior' recently. If she suspects me, she'll try to find you out. And if ― and when ― she does find you...she'll  _kill_  you." She was frantic. "She likes to be totally in control. It looks like she feels she's not in control of me ― not anymore."

"Well, that's too damned bad for her. Because I bloody will  _not_  let this pass. No one is going to touch you but me."

"You still want me? Even though your life's in danger?" She gaped at him.

"Does that surprise you?" He threaded his fingers through her hair. "I'm not the type who surrenders easily, love. A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. I will only walk away if  _you_  ask me to. No one else can get rid of me."

She scowled. "You're risking an awful lot for someone you don't even know."

"Oi!" He thrust up. She moaned from the feel of him hardening inside her. "I  _know_  you plenty. And your body certainly recalls mine."

"That's not what I meant." Her body was shaking. "I don't want to lose you ― I  _can't_." She sniffled. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."  _And...I also happen to love you..._

His gaze softened. "Aye...I understand what you meant, lass. Unfortunately, I didn't get the opportunity to properly date you, as it were...so true, we don't know each other, like that. In other ways..." He gave her a sexy smile. "We know each other  _very_  well."

She pressed her breasts to his chest, reveling in his low whimpers. His warm skin on her nipples aroused her even more. "Yes, we do..." She began to grind against him, renewing her thrusts. "Like you know that right now, I  _really_  want another round."

He arched a brow at her, nonplussed. "You're avoiding the subject again, darling."

"Fuck first...talk later," she promised, her breaths growing short. He captured her breasts in his hands and massaged them. The hungry fire in his eyes made her moan.

"I'm holding you to that, Swan," he muttered before lunging up and flipping them over.

His delighted grin, all teeth and no bite, was the last sight she could focus on before the line between sweet pleasure and incredible euphoria became quite blurred.


	5. Whataya want from me, part 1

 

" _Killian Jones." The tumbler, empty of alcohol, hit the wooden bar with a snap. "Never thought I'd see you in a hellhole like this."_

_Slipping onto the next barstool, Killian rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension in his neck. "Lad, we're practically family, what with all the dirty work I have to do for your father. But that aside," he signaled the bartender, "sometimes a man just needs a bloody drink. Oi, get me some bloody Captain Morgan, would you?"_

_The boy who was born Baelfire, but became the man commonly known as "Neal," chuckled drily. "You never change, do you?"_

_He shrugged. "Change is fucking hard. As far as change goes, I'm a pirate, mate."_

_The grin on Neal's face grew sinister. "Which reminds me...I've been meaning to give you something." Suddenly, he pulled back his fist and socked Killian across the jaw._

_Whiskey sloshed everywhere on the counter, along with grunt of pain and more hits, most of which were misses. The spar ended quickly when Killian aimed true for his would-have-been stepson's nose ― and broke it. There were a few angry shouts across the barroom, but other than that, no one cared about their little fight. It was pretty much over before it began, and besides...everybody here was drunk anyway. In this shady corner of the criminal underworld, nobody gave a fuck if they tore each other into pieces or not._

" _Bloody God almighty," he swore, wiping blood away from his upper lip. His head was throbbing, his vision riddled with black dots. He spat out more blood, the metallic taste of it making him gag. "What the fuck was that for, Bae?"_

" _Don't call me that!" Neal hissed back. His nose crunched when he forced the damaged cartilage back into place. "Man, that was fucking overdue for years. After all, who was the one who put a blade in my mother's heart, huh?" The hate in his eyes was blazing. "The man who destroyed my family?"_

" _Actually, y_ _our father did that all on his own, lad ― he was already seeing that girl of his, Belle―"_

" _Shut up. All you wanted was to save your own skin. My dad's a dark one, alright, but you ― you're the icing on the damn cake. You've killed too. God, how you've killed ― a regular hit man. Don't fuck with me, Hook."_

_Just bloody fantastic. This conversation was off to a wonderful start. Killian winced when he said, "Look...Neal...I apologize. It was wrong ― bloody, fucking, terribly wrong ― to do what I did to Milah―"_

" _Fuck off."_

" _But lad," he pleaded, "she hurt me too, was ready to let me die―"_

" _You should have." The fierce light in his eyes dimmed a bit. "You deserved to."_

_Killian hung his head. This fight was already done. "Aye...perhaps."_

_How wrong was it, that this remorse bubbling in his stomach like acid was swiftly overcome by memories of Emma, of her sweetness and her goodness and her love? Worst of all, his mind was buried in images of them, tangled up in bedsheets as they explored each other. His fleeting love for Milah would never compare to the determined, bold romance he had with Emma. And the sorrier he felt, the more he realized that if that hadn't happened ― if Milah were not gone ― he never would have met this lass with sunshine hair and gorgeous smiles._

_He needed her. He didn't want to lose her._

_He wanted to live._

_Before he could open his mouth to answer, Neal interrupted. "Killian... Look, I don't know why you came here...but forgiveness is not something you're going to get from me. Hey, I know my mom made her choices, for better or worse. There are no excuses. You slept with her, my dad threatened your lives, you made choices. One of you ended up dead. End of story. It's the past, and to be honest, I'm fucking sick of it. I'm sick of all of it. I'm not going to be friends with you or make peace with you ― but I'm not going to judge you either. Not with all of the shit I've allowed to happen in my life so far."_

_He sighed into his fresh shot of bourbon, since the bartender was now out of whiskey. "We were once kind of close. Those are some of the few good memories I have ― don't want to lose them."_

_Slowly, Killian held out his hand to him, the boy he could have been a father to ― if circumstances hadn't turned out so ghastly. "For the sake of good old times?"_

_To his surprise, and relief, Neal took it. For the first time in so many bloody years, they had a handshake that didn't involved punches and curses._

_A moment of silence. Then, cocking his head, the former Bae asked, "So...you didn't come all this way to have a heart-to-heart chat with me about our differences. What is it you really want?"_

_As always, right to the point ― like the thief he was. Killian rubbed the back of his neck. "Right. Well...if you've talked to your father recently...there is this girl...in Cora's whorehouse..."_

* * *

_She's the first person he has talked to about his brother since his death._

In the early dawn hours, when all is surreal and quiet and dark, they made time to whisper about themselves. Emma was lying half on top of him, half pressed against his side, while he was flat on his back, eyes on the ceiling. Instead of making it to the bed, they'd landed on the floor and buried themselves in the rather opulent fur rug.

She lined soft kisses over his face, side by side. He guided her hand to feel him, hard and ready for her ― and then they were falling under that madness again, where she coaxed him to life by melding their hips, encouraging every wish.

"Relax, sweetheart," he breathed into her ear.

She was bucking too fast, her movements erratic and charged. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was mad at him. Normally, he was all about wild sex, but not when the lass of his affection was blinking back tears and doing her best to hide it by keeping her face turned away from him.

"You're over-thinking this," he purred, reaching out to pull back a veil of drifting golden hair. He kissed up her stomach, the valley between her breasts. "I want you to enjoy yourself, not cater to me."

"And who said I wasn't enjoying myself?" She slid down rather suddenly, rubbing the swells of her delectable arse against his thighs. He groaned. "I think I feel  _pretty_  damn good."

When he tried to catch her lips between his teeth, she tsked at him, burrowing her face into his neck. "Now who's over-thinking things?" she murmured, kissing along his jaw and his chin and then down his throat.

He clutched at wayward tufts of fur when Emma began to lick at his chest, her tongue dipping into the crests and indents of his muscles, mouth roving over his nipples and then onto his ribs, teeth grazing over matted hair.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?" she whispered into his skin, biting at his navel. He shuddered, eyelids falling shut.

The feel of her kisses up and down his cock drove him mad. He wanted her to stop, he wanted her to continue, he wanted her in his arms right now, her cunt spread wide and open for him, her wetness coating his length as it plunged inside.

When she sucked on the tip, he decided enough was enough. "Emma,  _God_  ― bloody hell, I want you  _here_ ," he begged, beckoning her. Smiling like the sun, she slid up his body, pressing her hardening breasts into his thighs, his hips, his stomach, his shoulders.

Killian could taste himself on her lips. Burying his hands in strands of her beautiful hair, he ignored how she was touching him, the gentle caresses here and there that said  _I want you_. Only because  _he_  wanted  _her_  with such need that it was bloody scaring him. He kept wanting more and more of her, so much that it hurt.

She breathed heavily into his shoulder. Her nipples were tightening against his chest. Gently, he trailed his cock along her abdomen, rotating his hips in circles when the sensitive head rubbed over her core. "Forgive me if I take a minute to savor the moment," he groaned, fingertips digging into the small of her back.

"Take your time." Her tongue darted out over his jaw. Then she bit down hard, sucking skin as she marked him. Her golden locks tumbled forward, showering him with the smell of her perfume.

When he rolled them over one more time and finally slipped into her, he could barely breathe. Emma was guiding his mouth back to her breasts, moaning lowly as the tip of his cock touched one of her secret spots, murmuring his name when his teeth latched onto one of her nipples and tugged at it desperately. The feel of her curves against him ― bloody hell, she was  _everything_. How could he begin to imagine a life without her?

It wasn't long until he came hard with a muffled cry of her name, while she rode out her pleasure. She was pumping him for all he was worth, nails digging into his arse and bloody hell, her  _moans_. "Oh god ― oh god, oh god,  _oh god_ ," she grunted, squeezing his buttocks cheeks hard, pushing him deep inside her. It was feral and possessive. He loved when she was like this, marking her claim on him. "Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_ ―"

Killian moaned despite himself, marveling at how she flipped them over with ease and began to ride him again, breasts tumbling into his face. Feeling boneless, he let her take full control, lips closing around one rosy nipple, suckling it wantonly. She quickly sought out another orgasm, whimpering at the sensation of his vigorous return thrusts, his fingers splayed over her bottom.  _He might not be able to deliver immediately, but he would give as good as he got._

Then, some bloody spectacular moments later, it started.. His cock, heating and tightening inside her glorious cunt. He quickly pinned her backward to the rug, spreading her thighs so he could drive deep into her, pistoning his hips aggressively. It made his growing erection burn. The wooden floor beneath started to creak as he pushed in, pivoting and grinding down. Emma clasped her hands around his neck, then wrapped her thighs around his waist. She moaned when he rode her hard, raking her nails down his back.

The clenching, the spasms, the forcefulness of their love-making... Killian wanted so much  _more._   _He could find bloody salvation in this, by God._

"Swan," he growled out, gritting his teeth. Looking down, he saw how they were joined at the hip, his dark pubic curls splayed over her sensitive mound, his cock quickly sliding into her tight opening and  _how goddamn right it felt_.

"Yeah?" Raising an eyebrow, she caught his gaze. Then she peered down, at the same sight he'd been fascinated by. A smirk curled her cheeks and she licked her lips, poking her tongue out. "Oh, don't be afraid to  _really_  get into it." Her eyes glittered from lust.

Fast and rough, grunting and groaning ― he knew he was using her core to the fullest, and  _he bloody didn't care_. She was enjoying him. He wanted to enjoy her ―  _thoroughly_. When her breasts bounced from the intensity of his thrusts, he greedily palmed them, admiring their curves.

The desire that spiked in his cock by just looking at the tight peaks ― bloody hell, they fit in his hands, and when her rosy nipples slipped between his fingers, he couldn't help himself. Soft kneading of the sweet flesh earned him her pleasured whines of "yes,  _please_." His mouth ravaged hers with savage attention, and he could feel her shouts come down in his throat.  _That wasn't all that he wanted to "come."_

"Give me everything, lass," he encouraged by her ear, pounding into her. "I bloody love you so much, Emma ―  _give in_."

In mere seconds, she was screaming out her love for him, crying out over and over again. She was was the one lying flat on her back, uncovered and heaving, her skin coated with sweat and a mixture of their cum.

" _Godd_ _amn_ , you really know sex like the back of your hand."

He grinned at the indirect compliment.

"Why darling, you're  _very_  welcome," he teased, which earned him a pillow smack against his head. "Oi, the pleasure's  _really_  all mine―"

Giggling, she shut him up by kissing him, prowling his body with eager fingertips and pliant softness that surrounded him once again. He didn't mind. Not at all. Tightly wrapping his arms around her, one hand on her waist while the other sought her arse, massaging the round cheeks, rolling her on top of him, into his lap ―  _heavenly_. "Mine," he hummed into her ear, brushing his lips over her temple. "All mine.  _Emma_."

"Yes,  _yours_ ," she mewed when he rubbed his cock against her tender core, enticing her to another orgasm with steady thrusts up. When she begged him to pleasure her again, pulling his head down to her breasts, saying  _please_ and _oh_ and _fuck, yes_ , guttural sounds left his throat. He dipped a finger into her heated core and savored how she clenched around him.

Shaking in his arms as she felt apart, she collapsed in his arms, moaning, " _You're mine too_."

* * *

Her palms, sweet with the fragrance of the almond lotion she always used, framed his cheeks when she leaned down to press yet another kiss to his lips. A smile appeared afterwards, etched across her face and no doubt on his as well. "Just know that I love you, whatever your name is," she said breathlessly, curling onto her side so she could see him.

The early dawn light was creeping in. And he wanted nothing more than for her to look at all of him. Without secrets. Without the barrier of all he'd never mentioned ― his entire life, from beginning to present.

There was nothing more erotic than the sight of her skin, glistening from sweat and sex and  _him_. The more he saw her naked body, every curve on display for him and only him...the more he desired her. And from the way she was looking at him,  _appraising_  him, he knew she wanted him. God, he hadn't let a woman see him bare and uncovered in― Well, it had been  _years_.

She'd confided in him her troubled childhood. Her transfer from a foster home to the Mills Soiree when her caretaker found out she had gotten her first period. Her dance lessons, from ballet to ballroom to pop and every style in between. Her fear during her first pole dance. The pain and embarrassment she always felt when she stripped. Her seclusion and her longing to belong somewhere, anywhere but the club, with its dissolute patrons and the never-ending drama that came with sexual desire.

In short, everything that made Emma Swan who she was.

And what had he shared with her? Nothing. Only little things, the details most would overlook. But she...she  _treasured_  them. She reminded him of the boy he once was and the man he had once hoped to be.

Bloody hell, he had to get over his fucking pride and be honest with her.

It didn't have to be the bloody name. It didn't have to be the whole bloody truth. She just needed to know more about him.  _If he told her about Gold and Cora and the fucking mess they'd created, the crocodile would have his head on a platter ― and the witch cut off his balls for a trophy._

"Are you happy?" She traced the lines of his bicep with one finger, dipping down into the crook of his elbow. "Does being here...do I make you happy?"

Killian exhaled raggedly, choking on bits of air as he struggled to make his tongue  _move_. "Aye, love...you do." He didn't dare to ask if she felt the same...he dreaded her denial more.

But Emma seemed very content with his answer, smiling brightly before snuggling her head into his chest.

Swallowing hard, he reached around her to pull her closer to him. He bloody loved touching her, to feel how alive and real she was ― not a ghost of the past or a dead wish. "Come to think of it...I haven't been this happy...since my brother died."

"Your brother? He died?"

"Aye." He gulped. "Was killed, actually. In a raid."

"Who...who was he?" she whispered. "Is it okay ― if you tell me that?"

His brother wouldn't mind, surely. Killian sucked in a breath. "Liam was...well, he was my idol." Even saying his name still hurt, after all this time. "I worshiped the bloody ground he walked on."

Her smile softened. "Sounds like he was really something."

"Aye, he was...the best  _someone_  there ever was. He was much more than a brother to me. My guardian, my best friend, my comrade-in-arms ― hell, we did  _everything_  together. I was always with him, and I would follow him anywhere, even to the ends of the earth."

Emma was slowly stroking the side of his face, as if she too wanted his skin constantly against hers. "And...what about your parents?"

"Dead," he spat out venomously. "Both dead."

She looked startled by the bitterness in his voice. Inch by inch, she leaned down to nuzzle his neck, whispering, "I'm sorry." Her lower lip trembled. "I shouldn't have asked."

His heart thudded painfully at the thought that she could be frightened of him ― that she  _feared_  him. Her limbs were shaking.  _What the hell had Cora and her minions done to his Swan, that she looked like she was about to take flight?_  "No, you should ask," he countered. The back of his hand found its way to her cheek, caressing it. "I  _want_  you to know me."

Emma didn't seem convinced, though. One brow raised, he gave her a winning smirk before he spun her onto her back. Towering over her, he stole breath from her lungs by engaging her in their most passionate kiss yet, all fire and sparks and smoke. There was nothing on earth that could douse the flames between them, bare and beside themselves with want.

" _Oh_ , oh my  _god_ ," she whimpered, fingers clutching at the sheets as his mouth sought more and more of her skin.

"Emma, Emma,  _Emma_." He nipped at the underside of one breast. She moaned. "So brave." He licked at the column of her throat. "So beautiful." His nose nudged at her folds, and he rested his forehead against her smooth mound. "You have no idea how much I love you, Swan," he sighed between her thighs. "How much I want to  _show_  you that love. Tell me what to do ― I'll do anything. Whatever you want, it's yours."

She tugged at his shoulders, guiding him up till they were next to each other again. Her eyelashes fluttered as he gazed at her. Oh, she  _did_  have something in mind, something she was wary to share. Her finger outlined his jaw, then trailed up his beard, touched the tip of his nose. "Have you ever thought..." She gulped. "Have you ever imagined..."

"Yes, darling?"

Pursing her lips, she peered down at the lost sheets. Blindly, she reached for them and pulled them up to her chest. He pouted at that. "We could...we could just  _go_." Her eyes sought his. "We could run from here...go somewhere else. Together." Stunned, he watched her start to babble when he didn't reply. "I mean...it's stupid, I know...but I was thinking about what you said...traveling the world...seeing new things...and we'd be  _together_ ―"

He cut her off with " _Bloody hell_ , lass" before delving into her mouth, capturing that brilliant tongue and devouring her words. It was simple: she wanted him. If there was even a chance they could have a life together, apart from this madness...

"You mean it?" He hugged her, hiding his face in her shoulder. His lungs constricted even as he dared to hope. "Would you leave with me, Emma ― would you? You'd want to be with  _me_?"

There were tears in the corners of her eyes, and that smile of hers was so damn devastating, radiant,  _happy_. "You're such an ass.  _Of course_  I fucking mean it." She tugged at his lower lip with her teeth, then kissed it. Her voice was sultry when she purred, "So...when should I pack my bags?"

_The gloom that had filled his life, ever since Milah's death, took off like a shot._

He was rejoicing inside, that he was  _hers_  and she was  _his_  and this was  _not_  going to change.

Reveling in her peals of laughter as they rolled under the risen covers for the millionth time, unable to stop touching each other, Killian decided that  _aye, making love to his Swan was the best pastime of all_.

* * *

" _I thought you wanted the little bitch for your son."_

" _Miss Swan? For Bae?" He snorted. "Given her strong attachment to her new lover, I'd say that would be quite a poor bargain."_

_Cora's red lips tightened. "I still don't understand why you would want to reward your henchman by putting them together, Rumple. From what you've told me, by pairing them off, you'd be giving them everything they want. And after Emma's betrayal―" She shook her head._

_Gold smiled and bared his teeth. He'd suffered Hook's insolence and arrogance long enough. As for Miss Swan, she would be the means to an end: the destruction of Killian Jones ― not to mention that Cora wanted to punish the girl herself. "See, that's where you're wrong, dearie ― you're not seeing the bigger picture here. See, the best way to ruin someone's happy ending...is to make them believe they're getting everything they've ever wanted."_

_Her knowing smirk, full of wicked intent, matched his. Perfect. It was high time for revenge._

" _And that's precisely when you pull the rug right out from under their feet."_


	6. Whataya want from me, part 2

It was a frenzy.

Four times this week, she'd sneaked him into her room, careful to keep track of time so the other girls wouldn't hear her lover making her scream into the night. The sounds of them fucking was her freaking lullaby. But he was a good sport and they made a game of it, teasing each other and testing who wouldn't break under the rule of absolute silence.

That saying? That too much good stuff was too much?

_Fuck it._

Tossing her head back, Emma continued to roll herself over his mouth, nails grazing his scalp. She had been riding his mouth for minutes or hours ― she didn't care which ― and the whole display was making her wetter and wetter.

One glance at her breasts, shiny from the sheen of sweat and nipples erect from her arousal, did her in. She moaned louder, gasping and grunting, her fingers tugging at his hair, all while trying not to crush him under her weight. But his hands gripped her hips tighter, and his tongue probed with more force inside her. As if he couldn't get enough of her as well. All she could see of him was wet tufts of dark hair, reminding her who was buried between her thighs, giving her pleasure. The bonus: the one time he  _didn't_  talk when they were having sex.

 _Amazing, fantastic sex._  With the man she loved. Who loved her. Who was currently turning her inside out with that damned mouth of his.

"Oh for the love of―" She bit down hard on her lips to stifle a scream. He was now sucking on her clit and nipping at her opening, determined to make her come. And she was holding back, trying to withstand her climax so that she could enjoy the godsend that was his mouth. " _Fuck you_."

His answering chuckles, vibrating against her cunt, caused a ripple of need in her. Damn it, she'd forgotten that while he couldn't see her, he most definitely could  _hear_  her.

Taking in the sight of herself and him, naked and vulnerable as he let her use his body at will... He was underneath her, her ass sitting on his chest while she got fucked to the next world. He took nothing for himself. His main concern was her. For him, she always came first.

That thought alone drove her over the edge. Soft cries left her throat as she enjoyed the spasms vibrating through her core. She palmed her breasts to extend the delicious sense of falling, tugging at her nipples and imagining his mouth on them.

"Did I ever tell you what a beautiful arse you have, love?" He licked around her, pressing kisses to sensitive skin and trembling muscles, to wetness that leaked out onto his entire face.

"Holy shit," she whispered to herself. Next thing she knew, he was laying her down next to him, pulling her to his side.

His dark chest hair, mussed and glistening, met her eyes. Looking down, she saw the state of him ― panting, covered in his sweat and her arousal. His throbbing, reddened cock.

"How do you feel now?" His voice was so husky, deepened by his obvious desire.

"Hmm..." She sucked on the taste of  _him_ , water and rum and his scent, clawing at him as she slid down his torso and nipped at passing skin. "I feel good. But..."

"But?"

She pouted, trailing her hand down until she was grasping him, hard and full and ready. He hissed when she cupped it. "I want you."

"Is that so?" He flipped her onto her back before she could take another breath. Winking at her, he gave her a rakish grin before diving down to her breasts and taking a stiff peak into his mouth.

God, he was  _really_  good at that, too. Emma groaned, clasping her hands around the nape of his neck to keep his head in place. To make matters worse, he made all kinds of loud noises and sounds of satisfaction, most of which went straight to her core and made it quiver. He twirled his tongue around the tender buds, nipped at them with his teeth, sucked on them like they were sweets. Then he manually explored her chest, resting each breast in his hands and measuring their size as if he were a bra consultant. She stopped laughing after expert squeezing and massaging of the precious mounds got him right back into her good graces.

His erection pulsed into the skin of her upper thigh. When the tip accidentally grazed her inner lips, Emma had had enough. Putting both hands on his chest, she pushed him off her ― then spread her legs wide, asking for him.. The look of shock on his face transformed into wicked delight.

Not saying a word, he obliged her, sinking deep into her until he was fully seated. She whined when he didn't move.

"Emma..." He cleared his throat. "Do you want to be―"

"God no." With a wildness and sudden passion that surprised even herself, she kissed him, tilting her face from side to side so she could access all corners of his mouth. Breathless when they broke apart, she continued, "No, I  _want_  you on top. I  _want_  you to take control."

He growled. That made her grin. " _Bloody hell_ , woman ― the devil take my soul if you weren't  _made_  for me."

Inching up slowly, he smirked a little before slamming into her. The ferocity of it brought tears to her eyes. He did it again. Again.  _Again_. He built a slow, steady rhythm out of deep, violent thrusts that tore her voice from her throat and made her body thrum. Her legs gripped his waist.

"Fuck, that's ―  _oh my god_ ―" She shrieked as he pistoned his hips in time with his thrusts. Emma sobbed from intense loss when he slipped out, only to recover that immeasurable sense of fullness when he drove back in. " _Don't fucking stop_."

She ran her nails down his back, unable to cope with the sensation of how he suckled her nipples to match their union, primal and desperate. Damn it, she needed something to hold on to. Her hands finally found his ass and gave it a good, hard squeeze. This time,  _he_  groaned.

" _Yes_ ," she shouted, encouraging how far he went by pushing him into her. Rubbing those perfect, taut cheeks, and enjoying that he was  _hers_.  _All_  of him. She rocked along, thrusting up and grinding herself against him. No way would she be a silent party to  _this_. "Right fucking  _there ― fuck,_ yes."

"Emma," he rasped, lifting his head from her breasts. It was a broken word that was filled with lust and want and  _love_. "Darling, I need ― I need―"

The caress of her hand on his cheek was gentle. "What do you need?"

His gaze reached hers. It  _burned_. "I need  _you_. Harder. More.  _Please, love_."

Always a gentleman, even in bed. He wouldn't take what she didn't offer freely. She leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm yours to have. Anything you want. Everything."

A wild moan later, he pinned her arms above her head. His knees nudged her thighs far apart. Then his lips latched on her nipples  _again_ , a fricking stronghold for when the storm came.

And came, it did.

His legs curving between her, her back bowing before him. Hair brushing over her breasts, her stomach, her ribs. Her hips slapping against his. She could only hold on for dear life ― literally ― while he pounded into her. His face was contorted from pleasure, his eyes shut closed as he savored this. "Bloody hell, Emma,  _Emma_." His voice was hoarse and strained, a series of strangled shouts. "Love, you feel  _incredible_."

Merciless. Relentless.

She was helpless.

Emma cried out, because he was hitting  _that spot_  with the tip of his cock and there was no turning back. She was going to have bruises from this, she was going to have such fantasies from this―

He kept bucking against her, not giving in. Was it wrong to feel turned on when his grip on her wrists tightened, showing her who was in control? Was it wrong...that she liked this rough display of power from him, the way he could make her body weak but the rest of her strong?

"Say you love this." His tone was ragged and dangerous. "Say you love me."

Keening, her lips parted. He pushed his tongue inside and ravaged her mouth.

"Holy  _fuck_." She moaned. "Yes. I love this. But ― I love you more.  _I love you more, damn it._ "

Her confession seemed to trigger something in him, unleash something dark and fierce. He picked up the pace. Clutching at his shoulders, she wrapped her thighs around his waist.

"Sweet God ― Emma―" he cried out right before he shuddered out his release, uttering her name like the chorus of a song.

In return, she expected a climax worthy of  _many_  screams. But instead, she moaned deeply. An abundance of pleasure and fulfillment flowed through her veins as the most satisfying orgasm ruined her senses, undulating from her head to her toes, leaving her in a bubble of perfect happiness.  _Walking on air, as they say._  All she could say was "wow" before a big smile crept across her face and she leaned back into the pillows. His cock, sated, slipped out of her.

He couldn't leave love bites, for fear of discovery. But she was marked all the same. His seed, inside her. His lips, on her lips. His body, on her body.  _In_  her body.

The frightened look in his eyes, the worried tone of his voice when he asked if it was too much or if it had hurt―

"Hurt?" she exclaimed. She threw her arms around his neck. "You're kidding. You were  _wonderful_."

Her moans filled his mouth. Whispered thanks was in her ears while she kissed down his throat. When his fingers slid underneath her to grope at her bottom, she laughed aloud. "Haven't had enough?"

One brow raised, he smirked. "Never."

Pouncing on her ―  _well, there was less than an inch between them already_  ― he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His chest hair tickled her breasts, and his legs were hot and heavy on her own.

She was surrounded. By him and his love.

_Someone wanted her. And she liked the way it felt._

* * *

_Poking at her morning oatmeal with a spoon, Emma stifled a smile, thinking how lucky she was. Finally, someone was waiting for her outside of this hell, someone with bright eyes and a sinful body. Her kindred spirit. Who would have thought Emma Swan the orphan could find her way home after all?_

" _Seriously? A masquerade ball?" Tink slapped down her newspaper, eyeing the bulletin board with disdain. "Here comes the cattle market. I can't believe she would do this."_

" _You know Cora ― she loves her ads," Ruby commented, snorting. "Jefferson just posted it up. She wants to sell us off in style."_

" _And the girl who gets the highest bidder gets a night off," Tink pointed out again. Her hands shaped her hips. "Just wait until the others hear about this. We'll have a full-on war. Who of us doesn't want some time to ourselves when we're not busy fucking somebody?"_

_Emma kept silent. It was troubling, this latest development. Neal, Gold's son, had stopped coming to the club altogether. Putting every working girl on display only meant more men and more problems. Cora was up to something for sure ― she never spent money on extravagant parties, even if it would attract bigger fish so clientele would vary. The party would be out in the open. She took such pains not to get caught that playing with legal fire now seemed absolutely foolish._

_Cora was many things, but she wasn't foolish._

" _And that bitch wants us to wear lingerie under our gowns ― she's preselected them for us," Ruby gritted out, throwing her hands up in the air. "It's not enough that we're running a prostitute joint here? She actually wants us to get business wearing costume gowns? How degraded can you get?"_

_Emma toyed with her spoon, recalling how he had kissed her before he left at sunrise. They'd had a quickie against the wall as part of their goodbye. "Something to remember me by," he'd said with a wink and smirk. He'd had a hard time fighting her off when she'd tried to trick him back into her bed, using her naked body as the bait._

" _Don't you have anything to say?" came Tink's irritated voice. "This affects you too. Unless you got a special request to stay here while the rest of us go kiss ass?"_

_She was startled back into the present conversation. "I – I'm not sure what I should say. It's not like we have a choice."_

_Ruby gave her a knowing look. "Ignore her, Tink. Emma's in love and nothing else matters."_

" _In love?" The annoyance on Tink's face turned into delight. "Who is it? Who's caught your fancy? Oh my gosh, it's that guy dressed in leather that you've been playing with at night!"_

_Emma flushed. "It's better if I don't talk about it," she said in a low voice, "as Cora disapproves of personal connections."_

_Tink ignored this. "You have to get him to come to the ball ― it's low risk, what with all the masks and dress-up, so he'd blend in perfectly. Come on, Emma, I'll sneak you a blank invite and you can give it to him. It's a chance for you to get a break out of here."_

_Ruby looked concerned. Emma felt her face blanch and her lungs tighten. "I can't do that, Tink. If Cora suspects anything, anything at all, she'll be furious. She's even worse when she's mad. A fake invite could set all hell loose, red lipstick and nails included."_

_Tink held up a finger to her own lips. "We'll be extra careful, then," she winked. "What Cora doesn't know can't hurt her, right?"_

* * *

Emma squinted blearily at the digital clock on the bedside table. Three in the morning. Still too early to wake up.

But she couldn't go back to sleep.

Peering over her shoulder, she could see  _him_ , flat on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. His body was uncovered ― he had a habit of kicking off the sheets in his sleep ― so she got a chance to admire him in his full naked glory.

She wasn't disappointed. Seeing him like this only made her want to flip him over, wake him up, and ride him. Her head flung back, her hips mounted on top of his. Her thighs, gripping and grasping his cock. Rocking up and down while she sought pleasure ― hers and his. His lips parted by a moistened tongue. He always told her how delicious she was, how her body was his treat and his indulgence. How their love-making was the highlight of his week,  _his day_.

The feeling was definitely mutual. She was already getting wet.

Padding into the lit bathroom, she clambered into the shower and turned it on.

"Going somewhere?" Before she could blink, he had spun her around and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was slow and deep, tongues stroking and caressing while he pushed onto her, pressing her back against the tile-covered wall. His erection was making her legs weak, her mind going wild at the thought of just how much better it was deep between her thighs―

He pulled away. She whimpered at the loss.

"Oh, it's a wash you want, is it?" he smirked, reaching for the sponge and soft soap. "Darling, all you had to do was ask."

He lathered the bar and then rubbed the suds over her skin. Her eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation of his hands running over her arms, up her shoulders, around her neck. The sponge scrubbed and smoothed out circles and lines of soap on her skin.

It wasn't until he went lower that she began to be aroused. He grinned at her openly while he washed her breasts, spending extra time to massage her nipples and knead the tender flesh with those skilled hands of his. Her stomach and abdomen were next, clenching at his gentle touch. Then he paused before her center.

"Come and sit down, Swan," he purred, leading her to the shower seat. He placed a towel down for her, then dropped down to his knees.

Her breath caught in her throat. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up the rest of you, of course." First one foot, one calf, and one thigh, then the other. Higher and higher his fingers went, until they were at her core, sliding in between...

"Wait," she whispered, feeling shy. "Let me do it?"

He cocked his head at her, but stopped his ministrations.

Emma pouted. The erotic moment seemed to be over because she wanted to wash her privates on her own.

It was careful and quick. Afterwards, she reached for the bottle of shampoo and poured some of the liquid onto her hair. He offered to massage it into her scalp, but she just rolled her eyes at him and did it herself.

Rinsing was, in her opinion, the best part of a shower. When she was little, she hated baths because she had to rinse herself in soapy, dirty water. No one had let her drain out the tub. But in a shower, fresh water expelled the dirt and the grime and soap residue, leaving clean skin and a clean image.

Nothing like washing away the dirtiness of her job and her life.

When water poured into her mouth and she was sure she was no longer covered in soap, she got out of the showerhead's range and peeked. He was struggling to wash his back by himself, his body already covered in a layer of white soap from his chest to his shoulders.

"Need some help?"

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "I'm alright, lass."

She tsked. "No, you're not. Turn around."

God, that  _ass_. It was hard to keep her hands from reaching out and groping it. But she managed.

"Having trouble keeping your hands to yourself, lass?" he chuckled.

She gritted her teeth and kept running that sponge along ridges of muscle and bone, along the sculpted body she'd come to know so well. Soon enough, he was finishing his front and then washing his hair.

All too soon, they were both rinsed and the shower was over. His hand snaked behind her to turn off the water.

"Don't." Emma licked at her lips. "Keep it on."

He raised a brow at her. "Why? Bloody waste of water."

She growled out, "Stop being such a damn gentleman" before throwing herself at him, until they were writhing against the wet wall.

He was moaning into her ear as she loved him, leaving violent kisses down his chest, sucking in droplets of  _him_. His hands were on her bottom, fingers digging into the cheeks while her mouth traveled downward. Walking backwards, she plopped down on the shower seat, pulled him to her, and crossed the line between his hips and his crotch.

"Emma," he cried out when she took him into her mouth, working his shaft with her lips and tongue. His release came faster than he could stop her from taking it in, sucking and laving and biting and encouraging him to come in her throat. Her thighs wrapped around his calves and she let him buck forward, groaning and humming to heighten his pleasure.

When it ended with yells and curses streaming from his lips, his seed spurting into her mouth, she gave his cock one final lick and sat back, reveling in his flushed cheeks and the frantic rise of his chest.

Two dazzling blue eyes set on her, wild and darkened by his recent orgasm, and she knew she was done for.

"You bloody wench," he hissed, grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder. She shrieked when he spanked her bottom. Dropping her onto the bed, he lowered himself down, plunging his tongue into her mouth and rocketing his hips onto hers. She could feel every marvelous, wet inch of him against her. It had tasted so good, too.

"How could you, Emma?" he whined, nipping at her lips. "How could you do that to me?" His tone became sultry and rich. "Your mouth felt so good around me. Did you honestly think I would forget that? And you look so bloody sexy when you're  _wet_."

Flicking her wet hair behind her back, she rolled them over so that she was sitting on his lap. "It  _was_  good, wasn't it?" she teased, her fingers curling his matted chest hair. "But among all those fine words, I haven't heard a thank you, yet..."

He bit down on his lower lip, staring at her from top to bottom. "Love, my kind of gratitude requires your participation." He leaned forward until his lips were by her ear. "Tell me what you want."

Emma studied him for a moment, considering the possibilities. She wasn't going to make this easy. And if she wanted to get him to come to the masquerade party, the time to ask was now. Leaning forward, she whispered her request.

His smile was mischievous. "Quite a tall order, milady."

"What? Don't think you're up to the challenge,  _Captain_?" She nudged his cock.

He laughed.

* * *

" _Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight ― for I never saw true beauty till this night._ "

A brush of hot wind outlined her jaw, so Emma turned toward the source of the husky, lilting voice. "Your attire is divine, love."

She knew that smirk. It  _was_  him, wearing the same mask he did when he first came to her. He had certainly dressed up, sleek in a stunning tuxedo. Even if she had recognized nothing else, his eyes were unmistakable. Damn him and his romantic streak and his eloquence.  _Good thing he was just as vocal in bed._

The girls had to choose their outfits by random drawing, pulling dry cleaning numbers from Jefferson's hat and then finding the matching pressed attire on the clothes rack. Hers was a leather ensemble ― a pirate's outfit ― showing off more of her breasts, midriff, and thigh area than she liked. Before, she wouldn't have cared about publicly wearing a provocative lingerie set that looked more like a flimsy bra and bikini than anything else.

But the horny smiles of both old and young men surrounded her, lured in by Cora's promise of sex and alcohol. All free ― for a substantial price. They were able to hide behind their masks, while the women had to parade around them like slaves on display, ready to be purchased.

For the first time in her life, she was afraid. If he didn't come...if he couldn't afford to pay the price... The entrance fee to the party was 10,000 fucking dollars. Where would he get that kind of money? She had worried herself sick, to the point that she felt like she was going to vomit and almost didn't go.

And if she hadn't shown up, Cora would have her skinned alive afterwards.  _Then_  she would kill her. Slowly.

The queen bitch was already sitting on her throne ― a real, golden throne ― overseeing the entertainment and bare skin on display. As always, Regina was absent, saved from being exposed to the lascivious tastes of her mother's patrons. But in contrast to the men on her invitation list, it was Cora who was the vulture tonight, decked out in red silk and layers of makeup. She was to be avoided at all costs. No one could hope to compete with that malicious mind of hers, except Gold. Those two fuckers deserved each other.

A firm hand snaked around her bare waist and pulled her back, further and further until she and he had withdrawn behind solid maroon curtains put up to divide the spacious banquet hall into lavish  _boudoirs_. Emma could already hear the barely stifled moans and grunts from nearby corners, hinting at just exactly what this party was all about.

There was a plush satin sofa, wide enough for lying down on. Lit candles and glitter were scattered about on thick tablecloths for decoration, accompanied by two glasses and bottles of various liquor. The seemingly romantic mood was ruined when she noticed the box of condoms and tubes of lubricant set by the old-fashioned record player.

He was trying to get her to sit down, nuzzling her neck and pressing kisses to her shoulders. But the stark reality of her occupation hit Emma hard. She shrugged off his attentions and began to pace around the "room."

"Very stylish, these quarters," he commented in a blasé tone of voice, fingering the candle holders. "Cora spared no expense in her love for deception."

He was right ― it was all so facetious and cold, every bit of it. Sex for dollar bills, strewn over the bed and floor. Sexual favors given out like candy, in exchange for cents. Men of all types ― single, married, bi, engaged, the psychos, the addicts ― flocked to women they viewed as objects, made for the fulfillment of their fantasies. Memories of her stripteases gave her chills. Pride turned into shame. Had she really been that girl, getting naked and dirty in front of customers who saw her body as an instrument of pleasure for their own sakes?

Why hadn't she rebelled before? Why did it take an affair to make her see the truth, to make her see how fucked up her life was? Emma clutched a fist to her mouth to quiet a broken sob.

She didn't want to be a goddamn stripper. She didn't want Cora to hold any power over her body or her freedom ever again.

"Shh," he breathed against her skin, rocking her in his arms. "We're going to soon leave all this behind us, lass ― I promise you. I'm a man of my word. No man will ever see or touch you again, not like that. But we do have to bide our time and be careful. I will keep you safe, Emma."

Yes, he had to make special arrangements, and they would have to be  _very_  careful when they finally did leave. Nothing could be traced. Cora was revenge unleashed; like a bloodhound, she'd stop at nothing to find them if she jumped onto their tracks or even caught their scent.

He waved a handkerchief in front of her nose, tickling her with it.

She chuckled through her tears, grabbing the cloth. "You're so old-fashioned," she croaked out, making sure to completely clear her passages.

His gaze was full of concern for her. "I've rented a hotel room, love." He gulped. "I wanted to ― but if you feel like ― if you fear Cora's anger―"

Smiling, she leaned up and kissed away his words, chasing off her regrets. The moment stopped being sweet and tender when she felt his hands massaging her bottom.

"Such a pirate you are, stealing my heart out from under me," he groaned. "I don't think twice about danger when I'm with you."

"Likewise." She ran a finger down the part of his chest exposed by his partly open shirt. "I'd like to steal something else from you, actually."

His saucy grin excited her. "My virtue?"

"Mm-hm. But you don't have to worry," she whispered, licking at his ear. "I'll keep it safe for you."

"Promise?" he pouted.

"Yeah." She bit down on her lower lip, glancing at their surroundings. "But everything has a price... You're absolutely sure Cora didn't recognize you?"

"Aye, I'm sure I wasn't seen." Threading their fingers together, he tugged her toward the southernmost curtain. They would have to play it safe to escape Cora's notice this time. "Let's go discuss that price, milady," he winked at her. "I know just the place, where we can have some much-needed privacy."

* * *

" _Come and make love to me."_

" _Make love to me, Swan ― please."_

She found herself staring at her naked lover, his body spread out on the hotel bed. He was already sweating, even though the room was cool and pleasant. Already erect and eyeing her with raw desire, when she was still dressed. Partly dressed.

Emma slipped off the leather skirt first, then the short jacket top. She hooked her thumbs in her panties and dragged them down, careful not to snag them on her stilettos. Her shoes were next, until only her bra was left. She undid the front hooks slowly, watching him lick his lips in anticipation. When the front halves were open, she flicked the offensive garment away.

Her stance was confident, because she knew he wanted her. He wanted her to get down on her hands and knees and crawl over to him, to bring herself to him. His cock was thickening and hardening ― she could see it from here.

She strode over to the king-sized bed. There was a headboard, but no railing at the end.  _Excellent for climbing_.

The mattress squeaked when she clambered onto it. Sliding forward, she stroked his feet and his calves, massaged his thighs. He whimpered. When his cock was directly in front of her face, she gave him her best smirk and continued to travel upward, sure to let the tip trail heavily down her chest and stomach until his hard length was where it belonged ― nestled between her thighs. She had pressed her breasts against his skin, dragging her nipples up over his body until they were right over his.

He was about to say something, but she hushed him with a deep kiss. "Mmm," she moaned into his mouth, "you're a tight fit. Just the way I like it."

"Emma." He shuddered in her arms, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I love you so."

"I know you do." She kissed him again, fingers ensnared in his hair, and guided his hand between her thighs. "Can't you feel how much I love you back?"

Fingering her wetness, he grinned and then ran his hands down her sides. "Show me?"

Rocking her hips into his, she moved slowly with short, timed thrusts while plunging her tongue into his mouth, savoring his deep groans. His deep groans inflamed her, made her want to be as close as possible to him. It was even better when he kneaded her breasts hard, causing her to rock into him madly.

"Bloody damnation," he shouted, gulping for air before attacking her lips again, drawing her back to him. She pressed harder against him. Her wetness was soaking him, her inner lips enfolding him though he was not inside her.

Emma didn't care about time or Cora or caution. They had all the time in the world, and she'd be damned if she didn't enjoy this night alone with him, away from the Soiree. "Dance," she crooned, thrusting faster.

He was growling when he rolled her onto her back, pushing her up until her back hit the headboard. Curling her calf around his waist, he gave her that devilish smirk she loved before pushing his cock into her. She gasped from the angle of his deep thrusts, the slow rhythm that made her heady and so, so full. It was all she could do to keep up with him.

" _Oh_  ― oh  _y_ _es_ , fuck  _yes_ ," she cried, hands grasping for something to hold onto.

Keeping his iron grip on her hips, he lunged forward and took her breasts into his mouth. Her fingers curled into the strands, tugging and pulling. Moaning, she arched her neck while he suckled her nipples again.

"Darling, look at me. Look at me as I bring you pleasure. I want to look into your eyes and see that." Shoulders glistening, breaths stinted and heavy, his gaze was darker than the room itself ― and within that darkness was something more powerful than anything she had ever seen. His cock purposely rubbed against her walls, and a tremor shook her entire body.

"Tell me your name," she begged, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "I want to scream it while we fuck...whisper it in your ear when you sleep.  _Please_."

He bit down hard on the tip of one breast. "No."

"Why not?" She tightened her hold on his shoulders. One hand was getting numb and itched to move. "You know mine. You know all my secrets."

"Because your life would be in bloody danger if I told you."

"How scary."

"Believe it," he growled out, thrusting faster.

The unsolved argument. No way was she letting this slide.

Emma rolled them over again, pinning him to the bed. Then she tossed her head back and began to fuck him as wildly as he had her, bucking up and down like an animal in heat. Her breasts bounced enticingly, and she reached down to finger her clit. His hand stopped her.

"That's my job, Swan." He sat upright and pulled her to his chest, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. Meanwhile, he touched her where she needed him, letting her dictate the pace of their union.

Their thrusts gradually slowed down, timed to match their mutual moans of pleasure.

"Don't know about those other bastards, but seeing you in that bloody leather fulfilled  _my_  fantasies." He nipped at her neck, one hand running up her stomach until it curved around one softening breast. "Always knew you'd make a hell of a pirate."

"If I'm your first mate, does that make you my captain?" Her fingers curled over his shoulders again.

"Consider yourself promoted ― Captain sounds good ― but bloody hell, you're my only mate, Emma." He kissed her hard. "Why would I want another?"

"It just seems," she groaned as his fingers inched up her back, "that a man like you could have any woman you want."

He smirked. "True. But just how many times do I have to remind you that I want you and only you?"

Lower lip jutting out, Emma chewed on it anxiously. "I'm afraid you'll get tired of me. Eventually. And then you'll leave. I...I need you. I've never needed anyone before and it scares me, just how much I need you."

He stopped moving. "You think I'd drop you for another, abandon you?"

Her eyes burned. "The story of my fucking life. No one's stuck around for me. I've only relied on myself ― it's helped me survive."

His hand buried itself deep in her curls. Then he was gently positioning her to lie flat on the bed, so careful not to hurt her when he propped himself up on his elbows and hovered over her.

"Then it will be my mission to make you feel as loved as you deserve." He shuddered when she traced the line of his jaw with her mouth. "You deserve even more love than I can give you, darling."

"It's your love I want," she whispered back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The stubble bruising her lips reinforced her belief in his presence here, that he truly was right here in this moment. That he was real.

Offering her a smile, he took her palm and placed it above his heart. "You feel those beats, how strong they are? It's how being around you makes me feel, my Swan. I want all of you and more. That is not going to change, not ever. I won't let you go. I cannot."

 _This must be what making love feels like_ , she thought to herself when he renewed his attentions, taking them further and further away from the real world and closer to their own world of love, where things like names and fortunes didn't matter.

* * *

_Cora wants to see you._

The words wedged themselves into her heart, and its staccato pulse was making her jumpy.

Cora didn't live just anywhere. She rarely set foot in the Soiree itself, leaving its management to her willing servants. Her mansion was miles away, on a piece of land surrounded by heavy, tall iron cast gates and prickly-looking bushes, cut off from her business should she ever need to cast off any association with it. She was always one step ahead, never one to rely on half measures.

Her brutal sense of self-preservation was a tiny part of how terrifying she was, in person and from afar.

"Leave us." Cora's voice was officious and cold. It brooked no argument or disobedience. Silently, her butler left without a word.

Emma had only spoken face to face with her "guardian" a handful of times throughout her life. The few conversations they had had were unpleasant and bitter enough to imprint themselves on Emma's memory. Cora's sex and birth control lecture the last time had been drilled into her system.

Head bowed, she waited to be spoken to.

"My dear." Cora's smile was anything but welcoming. It seemed to be a warning. "There's no need to be afraid. I don't bite. Come, I'm sure your car trip has been long, dull ― and you probably had to skip breakfast to get here on time. I have refreshments laid out."

 _Cora's bark was her bite_ , Emma thought to herself as she quickly took a seat by the sumptuous coffee table. Verbal manipulation was the woman's forte, so defying her directly would be really bad. The food looked wonderful and enticing, but she was afraid to touch anything.

"Help yourself, child." In one elegant swoop, Cora reached for the steaming teapot and poured herself a cup of hot beverage, grabbing several bite-size sandwiches. She motioned towards the appetizers.

Reluctantly, Emma selected a few of the same sandwiches and some pastries as well. Soon she had a considerable pile on her plate. The more hospitable Cora pretended to be, the more she had to be on her guard for whatever could happen. No one spoke to this woman without there being consequences.

Several minutes of unbreakable silence passed, with the older woman making a show of stirring sugar into her tea and cooling the liquid down before taking a sip. Emma didn't dare to drink at all for fear that she'd drop the cup and saucer on the floor. Her hands were shaking so badly that she hid them in her lap.

"Hmm, that's better." She set the cup aside. "Now, Emma, you must be wondering why you're here, right?"

Nodding seemed to be the safest reply.

"I know I could have sent a message through Jefferson, and he could have passed the information on to you, but... I think this required a bit of delicacy and sensitivity." Her lips curved slightly. "I decided that telling you myself was best."

"Why?" she squeaked out, stifling a hiccup.

Cora's smile held a promise of malice. "Better to inform you myself about a very dangerous potential client."

With some hesitation, Emma began, "Okay..."

"He has a preference for blondes, you see, and he goes only after very attractive females, like yourself. I trust you've heard of Gold? That one's a really nasty piece of work, and this brute happens to work for Gold. Rumors say he's a regular hitman. Killed his girlfriend out of jealousy, and a very messy business it was...he wanted to save his own skin, so he stabbed her without a second thought. An all-service man when it comes to murder and revenge ― Gold writes the death sentences, so to speak, and this piece of dirt carries out the executions. Of course when I heard talk that he might cross over my threshold, I had to warn you, dear."

She swallowed uneasily. "Why not just give his picture to the bouncers?"

Cora shrugged, chuckling. "Clever girl, Emma. I did, but when there's a will, there's a way. He would have no problem in bribing one of the other girls or the guards to get in. I will post his information in the Soiree, but I don't really believe that anyone will remember his features on the spot. He would never come as he is, in any case. He would be disguised. He's renown for his stealth and cunning."

Dread seeped into Emma's stomach and didn't want to go away. What was the woman leading up to?

Her eyes glittered like that of a raven's, exuding menace. "To be blunt, he's a cold-blooded killer. If you ever see him, tell the bouncers or Jefferson immediately and they'll take care of him."

"Kind of hard to do when I have no idea what he looks like." She grimaced at the thought of how they'd "take care of him."

Wordlessly, Cora whipped out a full color photograph and placed it in front of her on the table.

Drowning must feel exactly like she did right now. Her lungs were suffocating from a lack of oxygen, because she was holding her breath in that hopes that the image she saw would disappear. But as she blinked, the opposite happened. The picture became clearer and its details more distinct.

There was no mistaking the handsome face of her lover, staring back at her with tormented eyes.

Speechless, Emma tried to escape Cora's scrutiny, but it was futile. The woman was watching her every move, every line in her expression. She was well and truly caught. At this point, she could only feign ignorance.

"What–what's his name?" she stammered, putting distance between herself and the photo.

"Killian Jones. Or the moniker the criminal underworld knows him by ― Hook."

Her knees almost hit the top of the table. "He works...for Gold."

"He  _kills_  for Gold. He also has no scruples killing women, or more specifically, killing someone who belongs to  _me_."

"Because you and Gold hate each other," Emma whispered brokenly, clutching at the folds of her skirt.

"That's correct," she purred. "So...have you seen him?"

"No." Her voice was strangled; she didn't recognize it. "I've never seen him."

_If Cora knew the truth, then she would be in a pile of shit._

"You're certain, dear?"

She nodded mechanically, looking straight ahead at the wall. Every part of her body was in turmoil; she couldn't make sense of anything. On one hand, Cora could be lying and this was just a trap, to catch her and Killian. On the other hand, Emma didn't know what to believe. He had refused to share his name, refused to share his profession or how he spent his days. All she knew about him were bits and pieces of his family history, little details about his past that she couldn't put together to form a whole.

Who was he, really? What the  _fuck_  had he done?

"Oh, Emma, Emma." Cora sighed dramatically. "Things will go much better for you if you stop lying to me."

Her pulse came to a halt. "W–what?"

Slowly, she rose to her feet, gliding upward, a jeweled panther ready to pounce on its prey. Her tone hardened. "I know. I know all about your tryst with Jones. I know how you took him into your bed and you fucked him like a common whore. I know that you wanted to run with him. I know what a filthy liar you are, Emma Swan."

Her hands reached out for her neck. Caught in the headlights of Cora's fixed glare, Emma couldn't move, couldn't run, couldn't do anything but struggle against the woman's iron grip on her throat. Air was being squeezed out from her lungs and her vision began to blur. Vainly, she clawed at those cruel hands. Choking and gasping, she heard the bitch say, "Did he tell you? Did he tell you what he did to your parents, how they died? Did he tell you Gold was the one who ordered their deaths?"

Blindly, Emma kicked at her former benefactor's legs. Her heart throbbed at the sudden burst of air filling her chest and her veins. "What the fuck are you talking about? Are you crazy?" she yelled hoarsely, rubbing at her sore neck. There would definitely be bruises from the attempted strangulation. Words clouded her head. She didn't know what to ask or accuse.

Cora hissed, "You stupid, naïve girl. These men are all double-crossers, who want to eliminate threats to their empires but keep their hands clean. Your parents were special agents, right on Gold's scent ― and mine. He offered to keep them off track, for a price. What do you think happened to them?"

She thrust a filthy, ragged newspaper clipping into Emma's hands. "Bodies of FBI Agents Found Shot to Death: Killer Unidentified," said the gaping headline in bold print. Vaguely, she recognized her parents' names.

"They're dead," said Cora flatly, no hint of sympathy in her voice. "Murdered in cold blood, because they were a liability. Of course Gold earned their trust ― and betrayed them to protect his own interests. If I went down, he'd go down with me. There is no way I'd let him survive if I landed on my ass in prison. He knows this from experience."

It crossed Emma's mind that Cora could be twisting the truth. Looking into her eyes, she saw so much chilling hatred that there was no doubt of her relationship with Gold. In the end, either of them was responsible for her parents' death, the reason why she was left without a real home and a decent childhood. Was it the woman who spared her from death, or the man who didn't care about spilling innocent blood? If Cora had killed her parents, why would she help the child they left behind?

"You were just a baby, dear. You landed in an orphanage, but eventually, I tracked you down to a foster home. You reminded me of my own daughter, Regina, so I made sure you were taken care of. I felt so guilty that I had allowed Gold to manipulate me to such an extent. When he said he'd stop your parents, I had no idea he would kill them."

There must be a lie under the surface. Cora was too smooth, too confident, as if she had planned out this entire speech.

Emma's entire frame sagged from mental exhaustion. It was all too much. Her origins and the fact that her parents were truly dead. Killian Jones a possible suspect in their murder. His supposed feelings for her were no defense in light of all he had omitted and all she had discovered.

This could be a big hoax. Or a lie fed to a girl who was hungry for love. If the truth, he had been playing her from the start. He had used her, the way everyone else had used her. But why her?

"He never intended to elope with you, Emma. He never told you his name. He has so many secrets you don't know about."

She was biting on her bottom lip so hard that she could already taste blood. Her eyes watered until she couldn't make out Cora's sneering face. "Why me?" she rasped. "Why would he find me?"

A hand softly patted her back. "I'm sure Gold had a hand in it. He's good at destroying missing links."

Killian Jones had sought her out, seduced her,  _lied_  to her. He vowed love when he was planning...God knows what he was planning. Maybe she was lucky she found out his true intentions now.

The woman suddenly heaved a deep sigh. "I feel for you, Emma. I really do. This wasn't your fault. But you disobeyed me." She tsked, as though this were about a breach of etiquette, not a girl's broken heart. "You got involved with him, you sneaked behind my back and let him in to the Soiree. If word got out that I tolerated such insubordination, my reputation would be ruined."

She was winded, her mind wiped blank. Her love, her dreams... They had been stolen from her in under a minute. Her hopes had been stripped away, leaving her bereft and alone. All the nights they had spent together, all the whispered confessions...they were worth nothing. She had had sex with a  _killer_. The man who could have killed her parents ― who killed so many others ― had touched her, while his hands were covered in blood. She felt disgusted.

Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. It was a fucking whirlwind.

At least, her plans to leave could have taken off. Now, Cora was going to punish her so that she would never forget her mistake. There would be no escape from the life of a stripper.

Clasping her hands together, Cora strode about the room. "I've given this a lot of thought. There's no point in sending you back; your rebellion will only repeat if word gets out, and I can't have that. One rebel leads to a hundred, and I need my girls." She turned on her heel to face Emma. "It has been decided. You will get your wish."

The change in her emotions was giving her whiplash. "You mean," she started to smile, "you're letting me go?"

She laughed, long and hard. Her cackle was a harbinger of doom. "No. I mean that you're going to marry Killian Jones."

All the blood left her head. "What?"

"I talked to Gold. He sees no harm in sealing the deal, so to speak." She smirked. "You have spent all this time, wanting to run away with Jones behind our backs. You have been a selfish, ungrateful brat who has beyond a doubt proved the extent of your loyalty to me. Gold told me ― and I quote ― 'Why not just give her what she wants?' And that, my dear child, is exactly what you'll get."

Horrified and open-mouthed, she stared at Cora's widening grin, blood-red lips disappearing among gleaming white teeth.

"Oh Emma, love is  _weakness_. You wanted Killian Jones?" she snarled. "Well, now you'll get exactly what you deserve ― the life you wanted. You're going to spend the rest of your life with him. We'll make sure of that."

* * *

One moment, Killian was walking down the street, care-free, whistling to himself as he thought of Emma. The next, a knife was held to his throat, a dark hood was thrown over his head, and he was being dragged to God knows where.  _Bloody hell._

He tried to fight back, but he was obviously outnumbered. Eventually, he stopped struggling. There was no point in weakening himself when he might need all his strength later. However, a lack of resistance didn't prevent his assailants from landing a few blows to his gut and head.

When the hood came off, he was thrust into pitch-black darkness and saw nothing anyway. The chair he was sitting on was slowly dragged forward. Realizing his hands were tied with wire to the wooden arms, he snarled out, "I prefer it with the lights on."

"Very well," crooned an icy voice. "Give the man what he wants."

The sudden onslaught of light was a shock. He blinked rapidly to adjust to it.

Gold was standing in front of him. And next to the crocodile could only be the infamous Cora, smirking madly. They were in what seemed to be a storage room.

"Good enough for you to talk?" Gold drawled, twirling his cane. "Or do you still require other amenities?"

Killian fought his restraints again. "An explanation for all this cloak-and-dagger buggering nonsense would be nice, mate."

Cora tutted at him. "How is it said? The game is up, Hook. We know all about you and Emma."

He had expected a lot of words to come from either of their mouths. But hearing those select few froze him in place. He forgot himself. "What the fuck have you done to her?" he growled. "If you've hurt her―"

"Oh no," Gold tsked, sharing a look with Cora. "We would never do that. No, Hook. You ― you're the one who hurt her."

Bewildered, he tried to put on an unfazed smile to hide his growing fear. "I don't bloody understand."

"I told her the truth about you. Your name, your history. Emma knows it all," the bitch said, clearly gloating over him. "And worse for you...  _I_  know everything you've done."

If his life were a ship, it had just hit a reef and was sinking. Killian swallowed hard. "You plan to kill me now."

They shared a laugh. "Kill you? Why no, dearie." Gold smiled maliciously. "What would be the fun in that? No, you get to live the rest of your life, knowing you alone broke the heart of the woman you love most. The first time, you took away someone I loved. Now, I take away the one person you care about. An even exchange, wouldn't you say, Cora?"

She nodded. "Sounds fair. Oh, don't worry," she addressed Killian, "you'll still get to be with her. But I wonder if she'll want to be with you."

His temper was boiling. "What did you tell her?" he barked out between gritted teeth.

"Oh, nothing much." Gold shrugged. "Only that you killed her parents and a whole list of people she's never met. That you work for me and lied to her to further our interests. Otherwise..."

Killian cried out, writhing until he was rocking the chair in his efforts to free himself. "She would never believe such lies."

Cora snorted. "I'm the woman who took her in, gave her a job and a place to live. What have you done, Hook? Fucked her to the next world?" Scoffing, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you  _dare_  say you're any better than us. You are  _nothing_  but a pirate in modern garb ― a liar, a swindler, and a killer. Why would she believe you over us?"

In all his life, he had never felt as helpless as he did in this moment. Even when Liam was lying dead in his arms, he had more power over his emotions than now. Somewhere, Emma was hurting, thinking he had fucking done these things. It was all his fault, when he should have been honest with her from the start. He should have taken her away long ago, instead of waiting for the best opportunity. Look what his careful planning had brought them. They had been caught in a web of deceit and were paralyzed.

"She loves me," he whispered, full of doubt. His voice sounded utterly broken, like his entire self felt. "She believes in me and what I truly am."

Gold chuckled. "Not anymore." He fussed with his cuff links. "In case you're wondering, dearie... You  _will_  marry the irresistible Miss Swan. Nothing could be closer to our hopes. You see, I don't want to you to die. That would be too easy. No, you're going to suffer the way I've suffered ― but I'm not going to be the one who tortures you, and neither will Cora. You'll get to look into Emma's eyes everyday and know exactly what made her hate you. That is a better torment than any I could devise."

With that, they left him alone in that terrible room, with dread and misery hanging over him, his screams filling the emptiness in his mind. He could argue with Emma, defend himself to no end ― but at this point, would she believe him at all? Was there any hope left for them after what had passed?

Cora and Gold had destroyed their love, as surely as if they had stepped on it. They were master manipulators and he bloody fucking knew it.

He could only pray, to a God and Providence he wasn't sure he believed in, that Emma would see through the lies and the hatred.

That past her pain, she still loved him and saw the truth.

By all he held dear, he loved her. But marriage had never sounded less appealing.

Because if she didn't find it in her heart to forgive him, their lives from now on would really be a living hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the prequel. For the real epilogue/present time finale, go back to chapter 1. 
> 
> I also have a companion chapter posted separately, entitled Resistance, which coincides with the future timeline of this story.
> 
> A final review or comment about this story would be very welcome - I greatly appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you for reading my work!
> 
> For news about my original fiction and other updates, please visit [my writing blog](https://nataliathewriter.blogspot.com).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Resistance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796220) by [4getfulimaginator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/4getfulimaginator/pseuds/4getfulimaginator)




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